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■t > 


3 


• JACK TIER: 


OR, 




THE FLORID A ' R E E F ; 


By J-. FENIMOEE^OOPER. 


'Ay, now I am in Arden: the more fool 
I; when I was at home I was in a better place; but 
Travelers must be content. 

As You Like It, 


I 



GEORGE MUNRO, PUBLISHER, 

^ IT .TO 27 Vandewater Street. 


V R' 



PEEF ACE 


This work has already appeared in “ Graham’s Magazine,” un- 
der the title of “ Rose Budd.” Thecl^ange of name is solely theact 
of the author, and arises from a conviction that the appellation given 
in this publication is more appropriate than the one laid aside. The 
necessity of writing to a name, instead of getting it from the inci- 
dents of the book itself, has been the cause of this departure from 
the ordinary rules. 

When this book was commenced, it was generally supposed dhat; 
the Mexican war would end after a few months of hostilities. Such 
was never the opinion of the writer. He has ever looked forward 
to a protracted struggle; and, now that Congress has begun to in- 
terfere, sees as little probability of its termination, as on the day it 
commenced. Whence honorable gentlemen have derived their no- 
tions of the constitution, when they advance the doctrine that Con- 
gress is an American Aulic council, empowered to encumber the 
movements of armies, and, as old Bliicher expressed it in reference 
to th,e diplomacy of Europe, “ to spoil with the pen the work 
achieved by the sword,” it is difficult lo say more than this, that 
they do not get them from the constitution itself. It has generally 
been supposed that the jnesent executive was created in order to- 
avoid the very evils of a distracted and divided council, which this 
new construction has a direct tendency to revive. But a presiden- 
tial election has ever proved, and probably will ever prove, strongef 
than any written fundamental law. 

We have had occasion to refer often to Mexico in these pages. It 
has been our aim to do so in a kind spirit; for, while we have never 
doubted that the factions which have possessed themselves of the 
government in that country have done us great wrong, wrong that 
would have justified a much earlier appeal lo arms, we have always 
regarded the class of Mexicans who alone can properly be termed 
the “people,” as mild, amiable, and disposed to be on friendly 
terms with us. Providence, however, directs all to the completion 
oi its own wise ends. If the crust which has so long encircled that 
nation, inclosing it in bigotry and ignorance, shall now be irretriev- 
ably broken, letting in light, even Mexico herself may have cause 
hereafter to rejoice. in her present disasters. It w^as in this w^ay that 
Italy has been, in a manner, regenerated; the conquests of the 
French carrying in their train the means and agencies which have, 
at length, aroused that glorious portion of the earth to some of its 
ancient spirit. Mexico, in certain senses, is the Italy of this conti- 
nent; and war, however ruthless and much to be deplored, may 


iv ' ' PREFACE. ' ' 

yet confer on her the inestimable blessings of real liberty, and a re> 
ligion released from feux d* artifice,’' as well as all other artifices. 

A word on the facts of our legend. The attentive observer (>f men 
and things has many occasions to note the manner in which ordi- 
nary lookers-on deceive themselves,' as well as others. The species 
of treason portrayed in these pages is no uncommon occurrence; 
and it will often be found that the traitor is the loudest in his prot- 
estations of patriotism. It is a pretty safe rule to suspect the man 
of hypocrisy who makes a parade of his religion, and the partisan 
of corruption and selfishness, who is clamorous about the rights of 
the people. Captain Spike was altogether above the first vice; 
though fairly on a level, as respects the second, with divers patriots 
who live by their deity. 






JACK TIER 


CHAPTER 1. 

Pros. "Why, that’s'my spirit! 

But was not this nigh shore? 

Ariel. Close by, my master. 

Pros. But are they, Ariel, safe? 

Ariel. Not a; hair perished. 

Tempest. 

“D’ye hear there, Mr. Mulford?” called out Captain Stephen 
Spike, of the half-rigged brigantine “ Swash,” or “ Molly Swash,” 
as was her registered name, to his mate. “We shall be dropping 
out as soon as the tide makes, and 1 intend to get through the Gate, 
at least, on the next hood. Waiting tor a wind in port is lubberly 
seamanship, for he that wants one should go outside and look for 
it.” 

This call was uttered from a wharf of the renowned city of 
Manhattan, to one who was in the trunk-cabin of a clipper-looking 
craft, of the name mentioned, and on the deck of which not a soul' 
was visible. Nor was the wharf — though one of those wooden piers 
that line the arm of the sea that is called the East River — such a 
spot as ordinarily presents itself to the mind of the reader, or listen- 
er, when an allusion is made to a wharf of that town which it is 
the fashion of the times to call the Commercial Emporium of Amer- 
ica — as if there might very well be an emporium of any other char- 
acter. The wharf in question had not a single vessel of any sort 
lying at, or indeed near it, with- the exception of the “Molly 
Swash.” As it actually stood on the eastern side of the town, it is 
'scarcely necessary to say that such a wharf could only be found 
high up, and at a considerable distance from the usual haunts of 
commerce. The brig lay more than a mile above the Hook (Cor- 
laer’s, of course, is meant — not Sandy Hook), and quite near to the 
old Almshouse — far above theship:yards, in fact. It was a solitary 
place tor a vessel, in the midst of a crowd. The grum top-chain 
voice of Captain Spike had nothing there to mingle with, or inter- 
rupt its harsii tones, and it instantly brought on deck Harry Mul- 
tord, the mate in question, apparently eager to receive his orders, 

“Did you hail. Captain Spike?” called out the mate, a tight, 
well-grown, straight-built, handsome sailor-lad, of two- or three- 
and-twenty— one full of health, strength, and manliness. 

“Hail! If you call straining a man's throat until he^ hoarse, . 
hailing, I believe 1 did. 1 flatter myself there is not a man north of 
Hatteras that can make hihiself heard further in a gale of wind 


6 


JACK TIER. 


tlian a certain gentleman who is to be found within a foot of the 
spot where 1 stand. Yes, sir, I’ve been hailing the “ !Swash ” these 
five minutes, and thankful am 1 to find some one at last who is on 
board to answer me.” 

“ What are your orders, Captain Spike?” 

” To see all clear for a start as soon as the flood makes. I shall 
go through the Gate on the next young flood, and 1 hope you’ll 
have all the hands aboard in time. 1 see two or three of them up at 
"that Dutch beer-house this moment, and can tell ’em, in plain lan- 
guage, if they come here with their teer aboard them, they’ll have to 
go ashore again.” 

“You have an uncommonly sober crew. Captain Spike,” an- 
swered the young man, with great calmness. “ During the whole 
time 1 have been with them 1 have not seen a man among them the 
' least in the wind. ” 

“ AVell, 1 hope it will turn out that I’ve an uncommonly sober 
mate in the bargain. Drunkenness 1 abominate, Mr. Mulford, and 
1 cau tell you, short meter, that 1 will not stand it.” 

“ May 1 inquire if you ever saw^ me the least in the "world under 
the influence of liquor. Captain Spike?” demanded the mate, rather 
than asked, wdth a \ery fixed meaning in his manner. 

“ 1 keep no log-book of trifles, Mr. Muiford, and can not say. 
No man is the worse for bowsing out his jib when off duty, though 
a drunkard’s a thing 1 despise. Well, well— remember, sir, that the 
‘ Molly Swash ’ casts off on the young flood, and that Rose Budd 
and the good lady, her aunt, take passage in her, this v’y’ge.” 

“ Is it possible that you have persuaded them into that, at last?” 
exclaimed the handsome male. 

“ Persuaded! It takes no great persuasion, sir, to get the ladies 
to try^ their luck in that brig. Lady Washington herself, if she was 
alive and disposed to a sea-v’y’ge, might be glad of the chance. 
We’ve a ladies’ cabin, you know, and it’s suitable that it should 
have some one to occupy it. Old Mrs. Budd is a sensible woman, 
and takes time by the forelock. Rose is ailin’ — pulmonary they call 
it, 1 believe, and. her aunt "wishes to try the sea for her constitu 
tion — ” 

“ Rose Budd has no more of a pulmonary constitution than I have 
myself,” interrupted the mate. 

. Well, that’s as people fancy. You must know, Mr. Mulford,* 
they’ve got all sorts of diseases nowadays, and all sorts of cures for 
r" ’em. One sort of a cure for consumption is what they tarm the Hy- 
der-Ally — ” 

« “I think you must mean hydropathy, sir—” 

“ Well, it’s something of the sort, no matter what; but cold water 
- is at the bottom of it, and they do say it’s a good remedy. Now, 
Rose’s aunt thinks if cold water is what is wanted, there is no place 
where it. can be so plenty as out on the ocean. Sea-air is good, too, 
and by taking a v’y’ge her niece will get both requisites together, 
and cheap.” 

“ Does Rose Budd think herself consumptive, Captain Spike?” 
asked Mulford, with interest. 

“ Not she— you know it will never do to alarm a pulmonary, so 
Mrs. Budd has held her tongue carefully on the subject before the 


JACK TIER. 


7 


young woman. Rose fancies that her aunt is ou* of sorts, and that 
the v’y’ge is tried on her account; but the aunt, the cunning thing, 
knows ail about it.” 

Mulford almost nauseated the expression of his commander’s 
countenance while Spike uttered the last words. At no time was 
that countenance very inviting, the features being coarse and vul- 
gar, while the color of the entire face was of an ambiguous red, in 
which liquor and the seasons would seem to be tlended in very 
equal quantities. Such a countenance, lighted up by a gleam of 
successful management, not to say with hopes and wishes that it 
will hardly do to dwell on, could not but be revolting to a youth of 
Harry Mul ford’s generous feelings, and most of all to one who en- 
tertained the sentiments which he was quite conscious of entertain- 
ing for Rose Budd. The young man made no reply, but turned his 
face toward the water, in order to conceal the expression of disgust 
that he was sensible must be strongly depicted on it. 

The river, as the well-known arm of the sea in which the 
” Swash ” was lying is erroneously termed, was just at that mo- 
ment unusually clear of craft, and not a sail, larger than that of a 
boat, was to be seen between the end of BlackwelUs Island and Cor- 
laer’s Hook, a distance of about a league. This stagnation in the 
movement of the port, at that particular point, was owing to the 
state of wind and tide. Of the first, there was little more than a 
southerly air, while the last w^as about two-thirds ebb. Nearly 
everything that was expected on that tide, coastwise, and by the 
way of the Sound, had already arrived, and nothing could go east- 
ward, with that light breeze and under canvas, until the flood made. 
Of course it was different with the steamers, who were paddling 
about like so many ducks, steering in all dir.eclions, though mostly 
crossing and recrossing at the ferries, .lust as Mulford turned away 
from Ins commander, however, a large vessel of that class shoved 
her l)ows into the view, doubling the Hook, and going eastward. 
The first glance at this vessel sufficed to drive even Rose Budd mo- 
mentarily out of the minds of both master and mate, and to give a 
new current to their thoughts. Spike had been on the point of walk- 
ing up the wharf, but he now so far changed his purpose as act- 
ually to jump on board of the brig and spring up alongside of his 
mate, on the taffrail, in order to get a belter look at the steamer. 
Mulford, who loathed so much in his commander, was actually 
glad of this, Spike’s rare merit as a seaman forming a sort of nt- 
traclion that held him, as it might be against his own will, bound 
to Ills service 

“What will they do next, Harry?” exclaimed the master, his 
manner ana voice actually humanized, in air and sound at least, by 
this unexpected view of something new in his calling. ” What xoiU 
tney do next?” 

” I see no wheels, sir, nor any movement in the water astern, as 
if she were a propeller,” returned the young man. 

“ She’s an out-of-the-way sort of a hussy! She’s a man-of-war, 
too — one of Uncle Sam’s new efforts.” 

‘‘ That can hardly be, sir. Uncle Sam has but three steamers or 
any size or force, now the ‘ Missouri ’ is burned; and 5mnder is one 
of them.lving at the Navy Yard, while another is, or was lately, 


JACK TIER. 


8 

laid'np at Boston: The third is in the Gulf. This must be an en- 
tirely new vessel, if she belong to Uncle Sam.” 

‘‘ New ! She’s as new as a governor, and they tell me they’ve got 
so now that they choose five or six of them, up at Albany, every 
fall. That craft is sea- going, Mr. Mulford, as- any one can tell at a 
glance. She’s none of your passenger-hoys.” 

” That’s plain enough, sir-- and she’s armed. Perhaps she’s 
English, and they’ve brought her here into this open spot to try 
some new machinery. Ay, ay, she’s about to set her ensign to the 
navy men at the yard, and we shall see to whom she belongs.’’ 

A long, low, expressive whistle from Spike succeeded this re- 
mark, the colors of the steaiher going up to the end of a gaff on the 
sterumost of her schooner-rigged masts, just as Mulford ceased 
speaking. There was just air enough, aided by the steamer’s mo- 
tion, to open the bunting, and let the spectators see the design. 
There were the stars and stripes, as usual, but the last ran j^rerpea- 
dicnlarly, instead of in a horizontal direction. 

” Revenue, by George!” exclaimed the master, as soon as his 
breath was exhausted in the whistle, ” Who would have believed 
they could screw themselves up to doing such a thing in that bloody 
service?” 

‘‘ 1 now remember to have, heard that Uncle Sam was building 
some large steamers tor the revenue service, and, if 1 mistake not, 
with some new invention to get along with, that is neither wheel 
nor propeller. This must he one of these new craft, brought out 
here, into open water, just lo try her, sir.” 

‘‘ You’re right, sir, you’re right. A.s tO the natur’ of the beast, 
you see her buntin’, and no honest man can want more. It there’s 
anything 1 do hate, it is that flag, with its unnat'ral stripes, up and 
down, instead of running in the true old way. 1 have heard a law- 
yer say, that the revenue flag of this country is unconstitutional, 
and that a vessel carrying it on the high seas might be sent in tor 
piracy.” 

Although Harry Multord was neither Puffendorf nor Grotius, he 
had too much common sense, and too little prejudice in favor of 
even his own vocation, to swallow such a theory, had fifty Cherry 
Street lawyers sworn to its justice. A smile crossed his fine, firm^ 
looking mouth, and something very like a reflection of that smile, 
if smiles can be reflected in one’s own countenance, gleamed in his 
fine, large, dark eye. 

” It would be somewhat singular. Captain Spike,” he said, “ if 
a vessel belonging to any nation should be seized as a pitate. The 
fact that she is national in character would clear her.” 

“Then let her carry a national flag, and bed — d to her,” an- 
swered Spike fiercely. ” 1 can show you law for what 1 say, Mr. 
Mulford. The American flag has its stripes fore and alt by law, 
and this chap carries his stripes parpendic’lar. If 1 commanded a 
cruiser, and fell in with one of these up and down gentry, blast me 
it I wouldn’t just send him into port, and try the question in the 
old almshouse,” 

Mulford probably did not think it worth while to argue the point 
any further, understanding the dogmatism and stolidity of his com- 
mander too well to deem it necessary. He preferred to turn to the 


JACK TIER. 9 

consideration of the qualities of the steamer in sight, a subject on 
which, as seamen, they might belter sympathize. 

“ That’s a dr<5l4-looking revenue cutler, after all. Captain Spike,” 
he said; “ a craft better fitted to go in a fleet, as a lookout vessel, 
than to chase a smuggler in-shore.” 

” And no goer in the bargain! I do not see how she gets along, 
for she keeps all snug under water; but unless she can tiavel faster 
than she does just now, the ‘ IVloll}'^ Swash ’ would soon lend her the 
Mother Carey’s chickens of her own wake to amuse her.” 

‘‘ She has the tide against her, just here, sir; no doubt she would 
do better in still water.” 

Spike muttered something between his teeth, and jumped down 
on deck, seemingly dismissing the subject of the revenue entirely 
from his mind. His old, coarse, authoritative manner returned, and 
he again spoke to his mate about Rose Budd, her aunt, the ” ladies’ 
cabin,” the ” young flood,” and ” casting ofi;.” as soon as the last 
made. Mulford listened respectfully, though with a manifest dis- 
taste for the instructions he was receiving. He knew his man, and 
a feeling of dart distrust came over him, as he listened to his 
orders concerning the famous accommodations he-intended to give 
to Rose Budd, and that ” capital old lady, hCr aunt;” his opinion 
of '* the immense deal of good sea air and a v'y’ge would do Rose,” 
and how ” comfortable they both would be on board the ‘ Molly 
Swash.’” 

” 1 honor and respect Mrs. Budd, as my captain’s lady, you see, 
Mr. Mulford, and intend to treat her accordin’ly. She knows it — 
and Rose knows it— and they both declare they’d rather sail with 
me, since sail they must, than with any other ship-master out of 
America.” 

” 'Sou sailed once with Captain Budd yourself, 1 think 1 haye 
heard you say, sir?” 

‘‘ The old fellow brought me up, 1 was with him from my tenth 
to my twentieth year, and then broke adrift to see fashions. W'e all 
do that, you know, Mr. Mulford, when we are young and ambi- 
tious, and my turn came as well as anotUer’s. ” 

“ Captain Budd must have been a good deal older than his wife, 
sir, if you sailed with him when a boy,” Mulford observed, a^little 
dryly. 

■‘Yes; and 1 own to forty-eight, though no one would think me 
more than five- or six and-thirty, to look at me. There was a great 
difference between old Dick Budd and his wife, as you say, he be- 
ing about fifty, when he married, and she less than twenty. Fifty 
is a good age for matrimony, in a man, Mulford; as is twenty in a 
young woman.” 

” Rose Budd is not yet nineteen, 1 have heard her say,” returned 
the mate, with emphasis. 

‘‘ Youngish, 1 will own, but that’s a fault a liberal-minded man 
can overlook. Every day, too, will lessen it. Well, look to the 
cabins, and see all clear for a start. Josh will be down presently 
with a cart-load of stores, and you’ll take ’em aboard without de- 
lay.” / 

As Spike uttered this order, his foot was on the plank-sheer of 
the bulwarks, in the act of passing to the whaif again. On reacln* 


10 


JACK TIEK. 


ing (he shore, he turned and looked intently at the revenue steamer, 
and his lips moved as if he were secretly uttering maledictions on 
her. We say maledictions, as the expression ol his fierce ill-fa- 
vored countenance too plainly showed mat they could not be bless- 
ings. As tor Multord, there was still something on his mind, and 
he followed to the gangway ladder and ascended it, waiting tor a 
moment when the mind ot his commander might be less occupied 
to speak. The opportunity soon occurred. Spike having satisfied 
himself with the second look at the steamer. 

“ 1 hope you don’t mean to sail again without a second mate, 
Captain Spike?” he said. 

‘‘ 1 do, though, 1 can tell j’-ou. 1 hate Dickies — they are always 
in the way, and the captain has to keep just as much of a watch 
with one as without one.” 

That will depend on his quality. You and 1 have both been 
Dickies in our time, sir; and my time was not long ago.” 

” Ay, ay — 1 know all about it— but you didn’t stick to it long 
enough to get spoiled. 1 would have no man aboard the ‘ Swash ’ 
who made more than two v’y’ges as second officer. As 1 want no 
spies aboard my craft, I’ll tr}-- it once more without a Dickie.” 

Saying this in a sufficiently positive manner. Captain Stephen 
Spike rolled up the wharf, much as a ship goes oft before the wind, 
now inclining to the right, and then again to the Ic^t. The gait of 
the man would have proclaimed him a sea-dog, to any one acquaint- 
ed with that animal, as far as he could be seen. The short squab 
figure, the arms bent nearly at right angles at the elbow, and work- 
ing like two fins with each roll of the body; the stumpy, solid legs, 
with the feet looking in the line of his course and kept wide apart, 
would all have contributed to the making up of such an opinion. 
Accustomed as he w^as to this beautiful sight, Harry Mulford kept 
his eyes riveted on the retiring person of his commander, until it 
disappeared behind a pile of lumbw, waddling always in the direc- 
tion ot the more thickly peopled parts of the town. Then he turned 
and gazed at the steamer, which, by this time, had fairly passed the 
brig, and seemed to be actually bound through the Gate. That 
steamer was certainly a noble-looking craft, but our young man. 
fancied she struggled along through the water heavily. She might 
be quick at need, but she did not promise as much by her present 
rate of moving. Still, she was a noble-looking craft, and, as Mul- 
ford descended to the deck again, he almost regretted he did not be- 
long to her; or, at least, to anything but the ” Molly Swash.” 

Two hours produced a sensible change in and around that brigan- 
tine. Her people had all come back to duty and, what was very re- 
markable among seafaring folk, sober to a man. But, as has been 
said. Spike was a temperance man, as respects all under his orders 
at least, it not strictly so in practice himself. The crew of the 
” Swasli ” was large for a half-rigged brig of only two hundred 
tons, but, as her spars were verj'- square, aud all her gear as well as 
her mold seemed constructed for speed, it was probable more bands 
than common were necessary to work her with tacility and expedi- 
tion. After all, there were not many persons to be enumerated among 
the “people of the ‘Molly Swash,’” as they called themselves; 
not more than a dozen, including those aft, as well as those forward. 


JACK TIER. 


11 


A peculiar feature of this crew, however, was tlie circumstance that 
they were all middle-aged men, with the exception of the mate, and 
all thoroughbred sea-dogs. Even Josh, the cabin-boy, as he was 
called, was an old, wrinkled, gray-headed negro, of near sixty. If 
the crew wanted a little in the elasticity of youth, it possessed the 
steadiness and experience of their time of life, every man appearing 
to know exactly what to do, and when to do it. This, indeed, com- 
posed th,eir great merit; an advantage that Spike well knew how to 
appreciate. 

The stores had been brought alongside of the brig in a cart, and 
were already stowed in their places. Josh had brushed and swept, 
until the ladies’ cabin could be made no neater. This ladies’ cabin 
was a small apartment beneath a trunk, which was, ingeniously 
enough, separated from the main cabin by pantries and double doors. 
The arrangement was unusual, and SpiKe had several times hint- 
ed that there was a history connected with that cabin; though what 
the history was, Mulford never could induce him to relate. The 
latter knew that the brig had been used for a forced trade on the 
Spanish Main, and had heard something of her deeds in bringing 
off specie, and proscribed persons, at different epochs in the revolu- 
tions of that part of the world, and he had alwa^’-s understood that 
her present commander and owner had sailed in her, as mate, for 
many years before he had risen to his present station. Now, all was 
regular in the way of records, bills of sale, and other documents; 
Stephen Spike appearing in both the capacities just named. The 
register proved that the brig had been built as far back as the last 
English war, as a private cruiser, but recent and extensive repairs 
had made her “ better than new,'' as her owner insisted, and there 
was no question as to her seaworthiness. It is true the insurance 
offices blew upon her, and would have nothing to do with a craft 
that had seen her two-score years and ten; but this gave none who 
belonsod to her any concern, inasmuch as they could scarcely have' 
been underwritten in their trade, let the age of the vessel be what it 
might. It was enough for them that the brig was safe and exceed- 
ingly fast, insurances never saving the lives of the people, whatever 
else might be their advantages. With Mulford it was an additional 
recommendation, that the “ Swash ” was usually thought to be of 
uncommonly just pi opoitions. 

By half past two, p. m, everything was ready for getting the brig- 
antine under way. Her fore-topsail — or fore-^aw?sail, as Spike called 
it— was loose, the fasts were singled, and a spring had been carried 
to a post in the wharf, that was well forward of the starboard bow, 
and the brig’s head turned to the south-west, or down the stream, 
and consequently facing the young flood. Nothing seeined to con- 
nect the vessel with the land but a broad gangway plank, to which 
Mulford had attached life-lines, with more care than it is usual to 
meet with on board of vessels employed in short voyages. The men 
stood about the decks with their arms thrust into the bosoms of 
their shiits, and the whole picture was one of silent, and possibly of 
somewhat uneasy expectation. Nothing was said, however; Mul- 
ford walking the quarter-deck alone, occasionally looking up the 
still little tenanted streets of that quarter of the suburbs, as if to 
search for a carriage. As for the revenue-steamer, she had long 


/ 


JACK TIER. 


12 

be foie gone through the southern passage ol Blackwell’s, steering 
for the Gate. 

“ Dat’s dem, Mr. Mulford,” Josh at length cried, from the look- 
out he had taken in a stern-port, where he could see over the low 
bulwarks of the vessel. “ Yes, dat’s aem, sir. 1 know dat old 
gray horse dat carries his head so low and sorrowful like, as a horse 
has a right to do dat has to drag a cab about this big town. My eye! 
what a horse it is, sir!” 

Josh was right, not only as to the gray horse that carried his head 
“ sorrowful like,” but as" to the cab and its contents. The vehicle 
W^as soon on the wharf, and in its door soon appeared the short, 
sturdy figure of Captain Spike, backing out, much as a bear de- 
scends a tree. On top of the vehicle were several light articles of 
female appliances, in ihe shape of bandboxes, bags, etc., the trunks 
havjng previously arrived in a cart. Well might that over-driven 
gray fiorse appear sorrowful, and travel with a lowered head. The 
cafi, when it gave up its contents, discovered a load of no less than 
four persons besides the driver, all of weight, and of dimensions in 
proportion, with the exception of the pretty and youthful Rose 
Budd. Even she was plump, and of a well-rounded person; though 
still light and slender. But her aunt was a fair picture of a ship- 
master’s widow — solid, comfortable, and buxom. Neither was she 
old, noi ugly. On the contrary, her years did not exceed forty; and 
being well preserved, in consequence of never having been a mother, 
she might even have passed for thirty-five. The great objection to 
her appearance was the somewhat indefinite character of her shape, 
which seemed to blend too many of its charms into one. The fourth 
-person in the fare was Biddy Noon, the Irish servant factotum 
of Mrs. Budd, who was a pock-marked, red-faced, and red-armed 
single woman, about her mistress’s own age and weight, though 
less stout to the eye. 

Of Rose we shall not stop to say much here. Her deep-blue eye, 
which was equally spirited and gentle, if one can use such coptra- 
dictory terms, seemed alive with interest and curiosity, running over 
the brig, the wharf, the arm of the sea, the two islands, and all near 
her, including the almshouse, with such a devouring rapidity as 
might be expe(;ted in a town-bred girl, who was setting out on her 
travels for the first time. Let us be understood: we say town- bred, 
because such was the fact; for Rose Budd had been both born and 
educated in Manhattan, though we are far from wishing to be un- 
derstood that she was either very well-born, or highly educated. 
Ber station in life may be inferred from that of her aunt, and her 
education from her station. Of the two, the last w^s, perhaps, a 
trifle the highest. 

We have said that the fine blue eye of Rose passed swiftly over 
the various objects near her, as she alighted from the cab, and it 
naturally took in the form of Harry Mulford, as he stood in the 
gangway, oflering his arm to aid her aunt and herself in passing the 
brig’s side. A. smile of recognition was exchanged between the 
young people as their eyes met, and the color, which formed so 
bright a charm in Rose’s sweet face, deepened, in a way to prove 
that that color spoke with a tongue and eloquence of its own. Nor 
was Mulford ’s cheek mute on the occasion, though he helped the 


JACK TIER. 


13 

hesitating, half- doubting, halt- bold girl along the plank with ^ 
steady hand and rigid muscles. As tor the aunt, as a captain’s 
widow, she had not telt it necessary to betray any extraordinary 
emotions in ascending the plank, unless, indeed, it might be those 
of delight on finding her foot once more on the deck of a vessel. 

Something of the same feeling governed Biddy, too; tor, as Mul- 
ford civilly extended his hand to her also, she exclaimed : 

“ IMo fear of me, Mr. Mate — 1 came from Ireland by wather, and 
knows all about ships and brigs, 1 do. If you could have seen the 
limes we had, and the saas we crossed, you’d not think it nadeful 
to say much to the likes iv me.” 

■ Spike had tact enough to understand he would be out of his ele- 
ment in assisting females along that plank, and he was busy in send- 
ing what he called ” the old lady’s dunnage ” on board, and in dis- 
charging the cabman. As soon as this was done, he sprung into the 
main-channels, and thence, via the bulwarks, on deck, ordering the 
plank to be hauled aboard. A solitary laborer was paid a quarter 
lo throw off the fasts from the ring-bolts and posts, and everything 
was instantly in motion to cast the brig loose. Work went on as if 
the vessel were in haste; and it consequently went on with activity. 
Spike bestirred himself, giving his orders in a way to denote he had 
been long accustomed to exercise authority on the deck of a vessel, 
and knew his calling to its minutiae. The only ostensible difference 
between his deportment to-day and on any ordinary occasion, perhaps, 
was in the circumstance that he now seemed anxious to get clear of 
the wharf, and that in a way which might have attracted notice in 
any suspicious and attentive observer. It is possible that such a one 
was not very distant, and that Spike was aware of his presence; for 
a respectable-looking, well-dressed, middle-aged man had come 
down one of the adjacent streets, to a spot within a hundred yards 
of the wharf, and stood silently watching the movements of the 
brig, as be leaned against a fence. The want of housas in that quar- 
ter enabled any person to see this stranger from the deck of the 
“ Swash,” but no one on board her seemed to regard him at all, 
unless it might be the master. 

“ Come, bear a hand, iny hearty, and toss that bow-fast clear,” 
cried the captain, whose impatience to be off seemed to increase as 
the time to do so approached nearer and nearer. ” Off with it at 
once, and let her go.” 

The man on the wharf threw the turns of the hawser clear of the 
post, and the “ Swash ” was released forward. A smaller line, for 
a spring, had been run some distance along the wharfs, ahead of 
the vessel, and brought in aft. Her people clapped on this, and hove 
way to their craft, which, being comparatively light, was easily 
moved, and-very manageable. As this was done, the distant spec- 
tator, who had been leaning on the fence, moved toward the wharf 
with a step a little quicker than common. Almost at the same in- 
stant, a short, stout, sailor like looking little person, waddled down 
the nearest street, seeming to be in somewhat of a hurry, and pres- 
ently he joined the other stranger, and appeared to enter into con- 
versation with him; pointing toward the “Swash ” as he did so. 
All this time, both continued to advance toward the wharf. 

In the meanwhile Spike and his people were not idle. The tide 


14 


JACK TIEK. 


did not run very strong near the wharfs and in the sort of a bight 
in which the vessel had lain; but, such as it was, it soon took the 
brig on her inner bow, and began to cast her head ott shore. The 
people at the spring pulled away with all their force, and got suffi- 
cient motion on their vessel to overcome the tide, and to gi'^e tlie 
rudder an influence. The latter was put hard a-starboard, and 
helped to cast the brig’s head to the snut Award. 

Down to this moment, the only sail that was loose on board the 
“ Swash ” was the tore-topsail, as mentioned. Tin's still hung in the 
gear, but a hand had been sent aloft to overhaul the buntlines and 
clewlines, and men were also at the sheets. In a minute the sail 
was ready for hoisting. The “ Swash ” carried a wapper of a fore- 
and-aft mainsail, and, what is more, it was fitted with a standing 
gaft, for appearance in port. At sea. Spike knew better than to trust 
to this arrangement; but in tine weather, and close in with the land, 
he found it convenient to have this sail haul out and brail like a ship’s 
spanker. As the gaff was now aloft, it was only necessary to let go 
the brails to loosen this broad sheet of canvas, and to clap on the 
out-hauler, to set it. This was probably the reason why the brig 
was so unceremoniously cast into the stream, without showing more 
of her cloth. The jib and flying- jibs,, however, did at that moment 
drop beneath their booms, ready for hoisting. 

Such was the state of things as the two strangers came first upon 
the wharf. Spike was on the taflrail, overhauling the main-sheet, 
and Mulford was near him, casting the fore-topsail braces from the 
pins, preparatory to clapping on th^e halyards. 

“1 say, Mr. Mulforcl,” asked the captain, “did you ever see 
either of them chaps afore? These jokers on the wharf, 1 mean.” 

“Not to my recollection, sir,” answered the mate, looking over 
the taffrail to examine the parties. “The little one is a bursterl 
The funniest-looking little fat old fellow I’ve seen in many a day.’^ 

“ Ay, ay, them fat little bursters, as you call ’em, are sometimes 
full of the devil. 1 don’t like either of the chaps, and am right 
glad we are well cast before they got here.” 

“ 1 do not think either would be likely to do us much harm,' Cap- 
tain Spike.” 

“ There’s no knowing, sir. ^he biggest fellow looks as if he 
might lug out a silver oar at any moment. ” 

“ I believe the silver oar is no longer used, in this country at 
least,” answered Mulford, smiling. “And it it were, what have 
we to tear from it? 1 fancy the brig has paid her reckoning.” 

“ She dori’t owe a cent, nor ever shall for twenty-four hours after 
the bill is made out, while 1 own her. They call me ready-money 
Stephen, round among the ship-chandlers and calkers. Dut 1 don’t 
like them chaps; and what 1 don’t relish 1 never swallow, you 
know.” 

“They’ll hardly try to get aboard us, sir; you see we are quite 
clear of the wharf, and the mainsail will take now, if we set it.” 

Spike ordered the mate to clap on the out hauler, and spread that 
broad sheet of canvas at once to the little breeze there was. This 
was almost immediately done, when the sail filled, and began to be 
felt on the movement of the vessel. Still, that movement was very 
slow, the wind being so light, and the rU inertice of so targe a body 


JACK TIER. . 


15 

remaining to be overcome. The brig receded from the l^harf, al- 
most in a line at right angles to its face, inch by inch, as it might 
be, dropping slowly up with the tide at the same time. Mulford 
now passed forward to set tbe jibs, and to get the topsail on the 
craft, leaving Spike on the taftrail, keenly eying the strangers, who, 
by this time, had got down nearly to the end of the wharf, at the 
berth so lately occupied by the “ Swash.” That the captain was 
uneasy was evident enough, that feeling being exhibited in his 
countenance, blended with a malignant ferocity. 

” Has that brig any pilot?” asked the larger and bettei -looking of 
the two strangers. 

“What’s that to you, friend?” demanded Spike, in return. 
“ Have you a Hell-Gate branch?” 

“ 1 may have one, or 1 may not. It is not usual for so large a 
craft to run the Gate without a pilot.” 

“Oh, my gentleman’s below, brushing up his logarithms. We 
shall have him on deck to take his departure before long, when I’ll 
let him know your kind inquiries after his health.” 

The man on the wharf seemed to be, familiar with this sort of sea- 
wit, and he made no answer, but continued that close scrutiny of 
the brig, by turning his eyes in all directions, now looking below, 
and now aloft, which had in truth occasioned Spike’s principal 
cause for uneasiness. 

“ Is not that Captain Stephen Spike, of the brigantine ‘ Molly 
'Swash ’?” called out the little, dumpling-looking person, in a 
cracked, dwarfish sort of a voice, that was admirably adapted to his 
appearance. Our captain fairly started, turned full toward the 
speaker, regarded him intently fora moment, and gulped the words 
he was about to utter, like one confounded. As he gazed, however, 
at little dumpy, examining his bow-legs, red broad cheeks, and 
coarse snub nose, he seemed to regain his self-command, as if satis- 
fied the dead had not really returned to life. 

“ Are you acquainted with the gentleman you have named?” he' 
asked, by way of answer. “ You speak of him like one who ought 
to know him.” 

“ A body is ap* to know a shipmate. Stephen Spike and I sailed 
together twenty years since, and 1 hope to live to sail with him 
again.” 

“ You sail with Stephen Spike? when and where, may I ask, and 
in what v’y’ge, pray?” 

“The last time was twenty years since. Have you forgotten lit- 
tle Jack Tier, Captain Spike?” 

Spike looked astonished, and well he might, for he had supposed 
Jack to be dead fully fifteen years. Time and hard service had 
greatly altered him, but the general resemblance in figure, stature, 
and waddle, certainly remained. JS'otwithstanding, the Jack Tier 
that Spike remembered was quite a different person from this Jack 
Tier. That Jack had worn his intensely black hair clubbed and 
curled, whereas this Jack had cut his locks into short bristles, which 
time had turned into an intense gray. That Jack was short and 
thick, but he was flat and square ; whereas this Jack was just as 
short, a good deal thicker, and as round as a dumpling. In one 
thing, howbver, the likeness still remained perfect. Both Jacks 


JACK TIEK. 


16 

chewed tobacco, to a degree that became a distinct feature in their 
appearance. * v. 

iSpike had many reasons for wishing J ack Tier were not resuscitated 
in this extraordinary manner, and some for being glad to see him. The 
fellow had once been largely in his confidence, and knew more than 
was quite safe tor any one to remember but himself, while he might 
be of great use to him in his future operations. It is always con- 
venient to have one at your elbow who thoroughly understands you, 
and Spike would have lowered a boat and sent it to the wharf to 
bring Jack off, were it not for the gentleman who was so inquisi- 
tive about pilots. Under the circumstances, he determined to forego 
the advantages of Jack’s presence, reserving the right to hunt him 
up on his return. 

The reader will readily enough comprehend, that the “Molly 
Swash ” was not absolutely standing still while the dialogue related 
•was going on and the thoughts we have recorded were pg,ssing 
through her master’s mind. On the contrary, she was not only in 
motion, but that motion was gradually increasing, and by the time 
all was said that has been related, it had become necessary for those 
wha spoke to raise their voices to an inconvenient pitch in order to 
be heard. This circumstance alone would soon have put an end to 
the conversation, had not Spike’s pausing to reflect brought about 
the Same result as mentioned. 

In the meantime, Mulford had got the canvas spread. Forward, 
the “ Swash ” showed all the cloth of a full-rigged brig, even to 
royals and flying- jib; while aft, her mast was the raking, tall, naked 
pole of an American schooner. There was a taut topmast, too, to 
which a gaff- topsail was set, and the gear proved that she could 
also show, at need, a staysail in this part of her, if necessary. As the 
Gate was before them, however, the people had set none but the 
plain, manageable canvas. 

The “ Molly Swash ’’ kept close on a wind, lufldng athwart the 
broad reach she was in, until far enough to weather Blackwell’s, 
when she edged off to her course, and went through the southern 
passage. Although the wind remained light, and a little baffling, 
the brig was so easily impelled, and was so veryiiandy, that there 
was no difficulty in keeping her perfectly in command. The tide, 
too, was fast increasing in strength and velocity, and the movement 
from this cause alone was getting to be sufficiently rapid. 

As for the passengers, of whom we have lost sight in order to get 
the brig under way, they were now on deck again. At first, they 
had all gone below, under the care of Josh, a somewhat rough 
groom of the chambers, to take possession of their apartment, a 
sufficiently neat, and exceedingly comfortable cabin, supplied with 
everything that could be wanted at sea, and, what was more, lined 
on two of its sides with state-rooms. It is true, all these apartments 
were small, and the state-rooms were very low, but no fault could 
be found with their neatness and general arrangements, when it 
was recollected that one was on board a vessel, 

“ Here ebbery t’ing heart can wish,’’ said Josh, exultingl}^ who,, 
being an old-school black, did not disdain to use some of the old-' 
school dialect of his caste. “Yes, ladies, ebbery t’ing. Let Cap’n 
Bpike alone for dat! He won ’erf ul at accommodation! ISotabed- 


JACK TIER. 


ir 

bug aft — know better dan come here; jest like de people, in dat re- 
spects, and keep deir place forrard. "ibu nebber see a pig come on 
de quarter-deck, nudder.” 

“ You must maintain excellent discipline. Josh,” cried Rose, in 
one of the sweetest voices in the world, which was easily attuned to 
merriment— “ and we are delighted lo learn what you tell us. How 
do you manage to keep up these distinctions and make such creat- 
ures know their places so well?” 

“ Nuttin easier, if you begin right, miss. As for de pig, 1 teach 
dem wid scaldin’ water. Whcneber 1 sees a pig come att, 1 gets a 
little water from de copper, and just scald him wid it. You can’t 
t’ink, miss, how dat mend his manners, and make him squeei fuss, 
and t’ink arter. In dat fashion 1 soon get de ole ones in good train- 
in’, and den 1 has no more trouble wdd dem as comes fresh aboard; 
for de ole hog tell de young one, and ’em won’erful cunnin’, and 
know how to take care of ’emself.” 

Rose Rudd’s sweet eyes were full of fun and expectation, and she 
could no more repress her laugh than youth and spirits can always 
be discreet. 

‘‘ Yes, with the pigs,” she cried, “ that might do very well; but 
how is it with those— other creatures?” 

“ Rosy, dear,” interrupted the aunt, ” 1 wish you would say no 
more about such shocking things. It’s enough tor us that Captain 
Spike has ordered them all to stay forward among the men, which 
is always done on board well -disciplined vessels. I’ve heard your 
uncle say. a hundred times, that the quarter-deck was sacred, and 
that might be enough to keep such animals off it.” 

It was barely necessary to look at Mrs. Rudd in the face to get a 
very accurate general notion of her character. She was one of those 
inane, uncultivated beings who seem to be protected by a benevo- 
lent Providence in their pilgrimage on earth, for they do not seem 
to possess the power to protect themselves. Her very countenance^ 
expressed imbecility and mental dependence, credulity and a love 
of gossip. Notwithstanding these radical weaknesses, the good 
woman had some of the better instincts of her sex, and was never 
guilty of anything that could properly convey reproach. 

She was no monitress for Rose, however, the niece much oftener 
influencing the aunt, than the aunt influencing the niece. The lat- 
ter had been fortunate in having had an excellent instructress, who 
though incapable of teaching her much in the way of accomplish- 
ments, had imparted a great deal that w'as respectable and useful. 
Rose had character and strong character, too, as the course of our 
narrative will show; but her worthy aunt was a pure picture of as 
much mental imbecility as at all comported with the privileges of 
self-government. 

The conversation about “those other creatures ” was eflectually 
checked by Mrs. Rudd’s horror of the “ animals,” and Josh was 
called on deck so shortly alter as to prevent its being renewed. The 
females stayed below a few minutes, to take possession, and then 
they reappeared on deck, to gaze at the horrors of the Hell -Gate 
passage. Rose was all eyes, wonder and admiration of everything 
she saw. This was actually the first time she had ever been on the 
water, in any sort of craft, though born arid brought up in sight of 


JACK TIER. 


18 

one of the most thronged havens in the world. But there must be 
a beginning to everything, and thi^ was Rose Budd’s beginning on 
the water. It is true the brigantine was a very beautiful, as well as 
an exceedingly swift vessel; but all this was lost on Rose, who 
would have admiied a hojse- jockey bound to the West Indies, in 
this the incipient state of her nautical knowledge. Perhaps the ex- 
quisite neatness that Mulford maintained about everything that 
came under his care, and that included everything on deck, or 
above-board, and about which neatness Spike occasionally muttered 
an oath, as so much senseless trouble, contributed somewhat to 
Rose’s pleasure; but her admiration would scarcely have been less 
with anything that had sails, and seemed to move through the water 
with a power approaching that of volition. 

It was very different with Mrs. Biicld. She, good woman, had 
actually made one voyage with her late husband, and she fancied 
that she knew all about a vessel. It w’^as her delight to talk on nau- 
tical subjects, and never did she really feel her great supeiiority 
oyer her niece, so very unequivocally, as when the subject of the 
oceap was introduced, about which she did know something, and 
touching which Rose w'as profoundly ignorant, or as ignorant as a 
girl of lively imagination could remain wdth the information gleaned 
from others. 

“ 1 am not surprised you are astonished at the sight of the ves- 
sel, Rosy,” observed the self-complacent aunt at one of her niece’s 
exclamations of admiration. ” A vessel is a very wmnderful thing, 
and we are told what extr’orny beings they are that ‘ go down to 
the sea in ships.’ But you are to know this is not a ship at all, but 
only a half -jigger rigged, which is altogether a difteient thing.” 

“Was my uncle’s vessel, ‘ The Rose in Bloom,’ then, very differ- 
ent from the ‘ Swash ’?” 

. ” Very different indeed, child! AYhy, ‘ The Rose in Bloom ’ was 
a full-jiggered ship, and had twelve masts — and this is only a half- 
jiggered brig, and has but twm masts. See, you may count them — 
one— -two!” 

Harry Mulford was coiling away a top-gallant-brace, directly in 
front of Mrs. Budd and Rose, and, at heating this account of the 
wonderful equipment of ” The Rose in Bloom,” he suddenly looked 
up, with a lurking expression aboirt his eye that the niece very well 
comprehended, while he exclaimed, without much reflection, under 
the impulse of surprise — 

“ Twelve masts! Did 1 understand you to say, ma’am, that Cap- 
tain Budd’sship had twelve masts?” 

“Yes, sir, iicelde! and 1 can tell you all their names, for 1 learned 
them by heart— it appearing to me proper that a shipmaster’s v/ife 
should know the names of all the masts in her husband’s vessel. 
Do you wish to hear their names, Mr. Mulford?” 

Harry Mulford would have enjoyed tl)is conversation to the top 
of his bent, had it not been for Rose. She well knew her aunt’s 
general weakness of intellect, and especially its weakness on this 
particular subject, but she would suffer no one to manifest con- 
tempt for either, if in her power to prevent it. It is seldom one so 
young, so mirthful, so ingenuous and innocent in the expression of 
her countenance, assumed so significant and rebuking a frown as 


JACK TIER. 


19 


did pretty. Rose Budd when she heard the mate’s involuntary ex- 
clamation about the “ twelve masts.” Harry, who was not easily 
checKed by his equals, or any of his own sex, submitted to that re- 
buKing trown with the meekness of a child, and stammered out, in 
answer to the well meaning, but weak-minded widow’s question— 

” It you please, Mrs. Rudd — just as you please, ma’am— only 
twelve is a good many masts — ” * Rose frowned again — ” that is — 
more than I’m used to seeing — that’s all.” 

” 1 dare say, Mr. Mulford — for you sail in only a half -jigger; but 
Captain Budd always sailed in a full-jigger — and his tull-jiggened 
ship had just twelve masts; and, to prove it to you,^ I’ll eive you 
the names. First, then, there were the fore, main, and mizzen 
masts—” 

” Yes — yes— ma’am,” stammered Harry, who wished the twelve 
masts and ” The Rose in Bloom ” at the bottom of the ocean, since 
her owner’s niece still continued to look coldly displeased—” that’s 
light, 1 can swear!” 

” Very true, sir; and you’ll find 1 am risht as to all the rest. 
Then.Jliere were the fore, main, and mizzen top-masts— they make 
six, if 1 can count, Mr. Mulford?” 

” Ah!” exclaimed the mate, laughing, in sjute of Rose’s frowns, 
as the manner in which the old sea-dog had quizzed his wife became 
apparent to him, ” 1 see. how it is— you are quite right, ma’am — 1 
dare say ‘ The Rose in Bloom ’ had all these masts, and some to 
spare. 

” Yes, sir — 1 knew you would be satisfied.. The fore, main, and 
mizzen top-gallant masts make nine — and the fore, main, and mizzen 
royals make jhst twelve. Oh, I’m never wrong in anything about 
a vessel, especially if she is a full-jiggered ship.” 

Mulford had some difficulty in restraining his smiles each time 
the full-jigger was mentioned, but, Rose’s expression of counte- 
nance kept him in excellent order— and she, innocent creature, saw 
nothing ridiculous in the terra, though the twelve masts had given 
her a little alarm. Helighted that the old lady had got through her 
enumeration of the spars with so much success. Rose cried, in the 
exuberance of her spirits— 

” Weil, aunty, for my part, 1 find a half -jigger vessel so very, 
very beautiful, that I do not know how 1 should behave were 1 to 
go on board a jigger.'” 

Mulford turned abruptly away, the circumstance of Rose’s mak- 
ing herself ridiculous giving him sudden pain, though he could 
have laughed at her aunt by the hour. 

” Ah, my dear, that is on account of your youth and inexperi- 
ence; but you will learn better in time. 1 was just so, myself, when 
1 was of your age, and thought the fore-rafters were as handsome 
as the squared-jiggers; but soon after 1 married Captain Budd 1 felt 
the necessity ot knowing more than 1 did about ships, and 1 got 
him to teach me. He didn^t like Mie business, at first, and pretend- 
ed 1 would never learn; but, at last, it came all at once, like, and 
then he used to be delighted to hear me ‘ talk ship,’ as he called it. 
I’ve known him laugh, with his cronies, as if ready to die, at my 
expertness in sea-terms, for half an hour together; and then he 


20 


JACK TIER. 


would swear — that was the worst fault your uncle had, Rosy — he 
would swear, sometimes, in a w‘ay that frightened me, 1 do declare!” 

” But he never swore at you, aunty?” 

“ 1 can’t say that he did exactly do that, hut he would swear all 
round me, even if he didn’t actually touch me, when things went 
wrong; but it would have done your heart good to hear him laughi 
He had a most excellent heart, just like your own. Rosy dear; but, 
for that matter, all the Budds have excellent hearts, and one of the 
commonest ways your uncle had of showing it was to laugh, partic- 
ularly when we were together and talking. Oh, he used to delight 
in hearing me converse, especially about vessels, and never tailed 
to get me at it when he had company. 1 see his good-natured, ex- 
cellent-hearted countenance at this moment, with the tears running 
down his fat, manly cheeks, as he shook his very sides with laugh- 
ter. 1 may live a hundred years, Rosy, before 1 meet again with 
j^ur uncle’s equal.” 

This was a subject 'that invariably silenced Rose. She remem- 
bered her uncle, herself, and remembered his affectionate manner 
ot laughing at her aunt, and she always wished the latter to get 
through her eulogiums on her married happiness as soon as possible, 
whenever the subject was introduced. 

All this time the ” Molly Swash ” kept in motion. . Spike never 
jtook a pilot when he could avoid it, and his mind was too much oc- 
cupied with his duty, in that critical navigation, to share at all in 
the conversation of his passengers, though he did endeavor to, make 
himself agreeable to Rose, by an occasional remark, when a favor- 
able opportunity offered. 

As soon as he had worked his brig over into the south or weather 
passage of Blackwell’s, however, there remained little for him to 
do, until she had drifted through it, a distance of a mile or more; 
and tliis gave him leisure to do the honors. He pointed out the cas- 
tellated edifice on Blackwell’s as the new penitentiary, and the ham- 
let of villas, on the other shore, as Ravenswood, though there are 
neither wood nor ravens to authorize the name. But the ” Suns- 
wick,” which satisfied the Delafields and Gibbses of the olden 
time, and which distinguished their lofty halls and broad lawns, 
was not elegant enough for the cockney tastes of these latter days, 
so ” wood ” must be made to usurp the place of cherries and apples, 
and ” ravens ” that of gulls, in order to satisfy its cravings. But all 
this was lost on Spike. He remembered the shore, as it ha(i been 
twenty years before, and he saw what it was now, but little did he 
care for the change. On the whole, he rather preferred the Grecian 
'Temples, over which the ravens would have been compelled to fly, 
had there been any ravens in that neighborhood, to the old-lasb- 
ioned and highly respectable residences that once alone occupied the 
spot. The point he aid understand, how^ever, and on the merits of 
which he had something to say, was a little further ahead. That, 
too, bad been rechristened — the Ballet’s Cove of the mariner be- 
ing converted into Astoria-— not that bloody-minded place at the 
mouth of the Oregon, which has come so near bringing us to blows 
With our ” ancestors in England,” ^s the worthy denizens of that 
quarter choose to consider themselves still, if one can judge by their 
language. This Astoria was a very different place, and is one of 


JACK TIEK. 


21 

the many suburban villages that are shooting up, like mushrooms 
in a night, around the great Commei'cial Emporium. This spot 
Spike understood perfectly, and it was. not likely that he should 
pass it without communicating a portion of his knowledge to^ose. 

“ There, Miss Kose,” he said, with a didactic sort of air, pointing 
with his short thick finger at the little bay which was just opening 
to their view — “ there's as neat a cove as a craft need bring up in. 
That used io he a capital place to lie in, to wait tor a wind to pass 
the Gate; but it has got to be most too public for my taste. I’m 
rural, 1 tell Mulford, and love to get in out-of-the-way berths with 
my brig, where she can see salt-meadows, and smell the clover. 
You never catch me down in any of the crowded slips, around the 
markets, or anywhere in that part ot the town, for 1 do love country 
air. That’s Hallet’s Cove, Miss Rose, and a pretty anchorage it 
would be for us, if the wind and tide didn’t sarve to take us through 
the Gate.” 

“Are we near the Gate, Captain Spike?” asked Rose, the- fine 
bloom on her cheek lessening a little, under the apprehension that 
formidable name is apt to awaken in the breasts of the inexperi- 
enced. 

*• Half a mile, or so. It begins just at the other end of this island, 
on our larboard hand, and will be all over in about another half 
mile, or so. It’s no such bad place, a’ter all, is Hell Gate, to them 
that's used to it. 1 call myself a pilot in Hell Gate, though I have 
no branch. ” 

“ I wish, Captain Spike, 1 could teach you to give that place its 
proper and polite name. We call it Whirl Gate altogether now',” 
said the relict. 

“ Well, that’s new tome,” cried Spike. “1 heard, some 
chicken-mouthed folk say Gate, but this is the first time 1 ever 
heard it called Whirl Gate — they’ll get it to Whirligig Gate next. 
I don’t think that my old commander. Captain Budd, called the 
passage anything but honest up-and down Hell Gate.” 

“That he did — that he did — and all my arguments and reading 
could not teach him any better. I proved to him that it was Whirl 
Gate, as any one can see that it ought to be. It is full of w'hirl- 
pools, they say, and that shows what Nature meant the name to 
be.” 

“But, aunty,” put in Rose, half reluctantly, half anxious to 
speak, “ what has gate to do with whirlpools? You will remember 
it is called a gate— the gate to that wicked place 1 suppose is 
meant.” 

“ Rose, you amaze me! How can you, a young woman of only 
nineteen, stand up for so vulgar a name as Hell-Gate!” 

“Do you think it as vulgar as Hurl-Gate, aunty? Tome it 
always seems the most vulgar to be straining at gnats.” 

“Yes,” said ISnike sentimentally, “ I’m quite ot Miss Rose’s way 
of thinking — straining at gnats is very ill manners, especially at 
table. I once knew a man who strained in this way, until I thought 
he would have choked, though it was with a fly to be sure; but 
gnats are notliing but small flies, you know. Miss Rose. Yes, I’m 
quite of your way ot thinking. Miss Rose;, it is very vulgar to be 
straining at gnats and flies, more particularly at table. But you’ll 


find no flies or irnats aboard here, to be straining at, or brushing 
away, or to annoy you. Stand by there, my hearties, and see all 
clear to run through Hell-Gate. Don’t let me catch you straining 
at aHything, though it should be the fin of a whale!” _ 

The people forward looked at each other, as they listened to this 
novel admonition, though they called out the customary ” Ay, ay, 
sir,” as they went to the sheets, braces, and bowlines. To them the 
passage of no Hell-Gate conveyed the idea of any particular terror, 
and v^ith the one they were about to enter they were much too famil- 
iar to care anything about it. 

The brig was now floating fast, with the tide, up abreast of the 
east end of Blackwell’s, and in two or three more minutes she would 
be fairly in the Gate. Spike was aft, where he could command a 
view of everything forward, and Mulford stood on the quarter-deck, 
to look after the head-braces. An old and trustworthy seaman, who 
acted as a sort of boatswain, had the charge on the forecastle, and 
was to tend the sheets and tack. His name was Hove. 

” See all clear,” called out Spike. ” D’ye hear there, for’ard! 1 
shall make a half-board in the Gate, if the wind favor us, and the 
tide prove strong enough to hawse us to wind’ard suffleiently to 
clear the Pot; so'^ mind your-r-” 

The captain breaking off in the middle of this harangue, Mulford 
turned his head, in order to see what might be the matter. There 
was Spike, leveling a spyglass at a boat that was pulling swiftly 
out of the north channel, and shooting like an arrow directly athwart 
the brig’s bows into the main passage of the Gate. He stepped ta 
'the captain’s elbow. 

“Just take a look at them chaps, Mr. Mulford,” said Spike, 
handing his mate the glass. 

” They seem in a hurry,” answered Harry, as he adjusted the 
glass to his eye, ‘‘ and will go through the Gate in less lime than it 
will take to mention the circun\stance.” 

” What do you make of them, sir?” 

” The little man who calls himself Jack Tier is in the stern-sheets 
of the boat, for one,” answered Mulford, 

” And the other, Harry — what do you make of the other?” 

“ It seems to be the chap who hailed to know if we had a pilot. 
He means to board us at Biker’s Island, and make us pay pilotage, 
whether we want his Services or not.” 

“ Blast him and his pilotage too! Give me the glass ” — taking 
another long look at the boat, which by this time was glancing, 
rather than pulling, nearly at right angles across his bows. ” 1 
want no such pilot aboard here, Mr. Mulford. Take another look 
at him— here, you can see him, away on the weather bow, already.” 

Mulford did take another look at him, and this time his exami- 
nation was longer and more scrutinizing than before. 

” It is not easy to cover him with the glass,” observed the young 
man; ” the boat seems fairly to fly.” 

” We’re forereach in g too near the Hog’s Back, Captain Spike,” 
roared the boatswain, from forward. 

” Beady about— hard a lee,” shouted Spike. ” Let all fly, for’ard 
—help her round, boys,-all you can, and wait for no orders! Bestir 
yourselves— bestir yourselves.” 


JACK TIER. 


23 

It was time the crew should be in earnest. While Spike’s atten- 
tion had been thus diverted by the boat, the brig had got into the 
strongest ot the current, which, by setting her fast to^'windward, 
had trebled the power of the air, and this was shooting her over to- 
ward one of the greatest dangers of the passage on a flood tide. As 
everybody bestirred tliemselves, however, she was got round and 
filled on the opposite tack, just in time to clear the rocks. Spike 
breathed again, but his head was still full of the boat. The danger 
he had just escaped as Scylla met him as Charybdis. The boat- 
swain again roared to go about. The order was given as the vessel 
began to pitch in a heavy swell. At the next instant she rolled un- 
til the water came on deck, whirled with her stern down the tide, 
and her bows rose as if she were about to. leap out ot water. The 
“ Swash ” had hit the Pot Pock. 


CHAPTER II. 

Watch. If we know him to be a thief, shall we not lay hands on him? 

Dogh. Truly, by our office, you may; but I think they that touch pitch will he 
defiled: the most peaceable way for you, if you do take a thief, is, to let him 
show himself what he is, and steal out of your company. 

Much Ado About Nothing. 

We left the brigantine of Captain Spike in a very critical situa- 
tion, and the master himself in great contusion ot mind. A thor- 
ough seaman, this accident would never have happened, but for the 
sudden appearance of the boat and its passengers; one ot whom ap- 
peared to be a source ot great uneasiness to him. As might be ex- 
pected, the circumstance of striking a place as dangerous as the Pot 
Rock in Hell Gate, produced a great sensation on board the. vessel. 
This sensat ion betrayed itself in various ways, and according to the 
charatjters, habits, and native firmness of the parties. As for the 
shipmaster’s relict, she seized hold ot the mainmast, and screamed 
so loud and perseveringlj’’, as to cause the sensation to extend itself 
into the adjacent and lliriving village of Astoria, where it was dis- 
tinctly heard by divers of those who dwelt near the water. Biddy 
I>loon had her share in this clamor, lying down on the deck in order 
to prevent rolling over and possibly to scream more at her leisure, 
while Rose had sufficient self-command to be silent, though her 
cheeks lost their color. . 

Nor was there anything extraordinary in females betraying this 
alarm, when one remembers the somewhat astounding signs of dan- 
ger by which these persons were surrounded. There is always some- 
thing imposing in the swift movement ot a considerable body ot 
water. When this movement is aided by whirlpools and the other 
sitnilar accessories of an interrupted current, it frequently becoifies 
startling, more especially to those who happen to be on the element 
itself. This is peculiarly the case with the Pot Rock, where, noj: 
only does the water roll and roar as if agitated by a mighty wind, 
but' where it even breaks, the foam seeming to glance up stream, in 
the rapid succession ot wave to wave! Had the “ Swash ” remained 
in her terrific berth more than a second or tw’o, she would have 
proved what is termed a “ total loss;*’ but she did not. Happily, 


24 


JACK HER. 


the Pot Rock lies so Jow that it is not apt to fetch up anything of a 
lignt draught of water, and the brigantine’s^fore-foot had just set- 
tied on its summit, long enough to cause the vessel to whirl round 
and make her obeisance to the place, when a succeeding swell lifted 
her clear, and away she went down stream, rolling as if scudding 
in a gale, and, for a moment, under no command whatever. There 
lay another danger ahead, or it would be better to say astern, for the, 
brig was drifting stern foremost; and that was in an eddy under a 
' bluff, which blult lies at an angle in the reach, where it is no un- 
common thing for craft to be cast ashore, after they have passed all 
the more imposing and more visible dangers above; It was in es- 
capin'^ this danger, and in recovering the command of his vessel, 
that Spike now manifested the sort of stuff of which he was really 
. made, in emergencies of this sort. The yards were all sharp up 
when the accident occurred, and springing to the lee braces, just as 
a man winks when his eye is menaced, he seized the w'eather fore- 
brace with his own hands, and began to round in the yard, shouting 
out to the man at the wheel to “ port his helm ” at the same time. 

• Some of the people flew to his assistance, and the yards were not 
- only squared, but braced a little up on the ether tack, in much less 
time than we have taken to relate the evolution. Mulford attended 
to the main-sheet, and succeeded in getting the boom out in the 
light direction. Although the wind was in truth very light, the 
velocity of the drift fllled the canvas, and taking the arrow-like 
current on her lee bow, the “ Swash,” like a frantic steed that is 
alarmed with the wreck made by his own madness, came under 
command, and sheered out into tiie stream again, where she could 
drift clear of the apprehended danger astern. 

‘‘ Sound the pumps!” called out Spike to Mulford, the instant he 
saw he had regained his seat in the saddle. Harry sprung amidships 
to obey, and the eye of every mariner in that vessel ^^as on the 
young man, as, in the midst of a death-like silence, he perfoi^med 
this all-important duty. It tvas like the physician’s feeling the pulse 
of his patient before he pronounces on the degree of his danger. 

” Well, sir?” cried out Spike, impatiently, as the rod reap- 
peared. 

“ All right, sir,” answered Harry, cheerfully: “the well is nearly 
empty.” 

” Hold on a moment longer, and give the water time to find its 
way amidships, if there be any.” 

The mate remained perched up on the pump, in order to comply, 
•while Spike and his people, who now bieathed more freely again, 
improved the leisure to brace up and haul aft, to the new course. 

“Biddy,” said Mrs. Budd considerately, during this pause in the 
incidents, “you needn’t scream any longer. The danger seems to 
be past, and you may get up otf the deck now. See 1 have let go 
'of the mast. The pumps have been sounded, and are found light. 

Biddy, like an obedient and respectful servant, did as directed, 
quite satisfied if the pumps were tight. It was some little time, to 
be sure, before she was perfectly certain whether she were alive or 
not; but, once certain of this circumstance, her alarm very sensibly 
abated, and she became reasonable. As for Mulford, he dropped the 
sounding-rod ^again and had the same cheering report to make. 


JACK TIER. 


25 


“ The brig is as tight as a bottle, sir.” 

“ l5o much the better,” answered Spike. “ 1 never had such a 
whirl in her before in my life, and 1 thought she was going to stop 
and pass the night there. That’s the very spot on which ‘ The Hus- 
sar ’ frigate was wrecked.” 

” So i have heard, sir. But she drew so much water that she hit 
slap against tlie rock, and^slarted a butt. We merely touched on its 
top with our forefoot, and slid off.’' 

This w'as the simple explanation of the ” Swash’s ” escape, and, 
everybody being now well assured that no harm had been done, 
things fell into their old and regular train again. As for Spike, his 
gallantry, notwithstanding, was upset tor some hours, and glad 
enough was he when he saw all three of his passengers quit the deck 
to go below. Mrs. Budd’s spirits had been so much agitated, that 
she told Rose she would go down into the cabin and rest a few min- 
utes on its sofa. We say sofa, for that article of furniture, now- 
adays, is far more common in vessels than it was thirty years ago in 
the d wellings of the country. 

“ There, Muiford.” growled Spike, pointing ahead of the brig, to 
an object on the water that was about half a mile ahead rd them — 
“ there’s that bloody boat — d’ye see? I should like of all things to 
give it the slip. There’s a chap in that boat 1 don’t like.” 

“I don’t see how that can be very well done, sir, unless We an- 
chor, repass the Gate at the turn of the tide, an(^ go to sea by the 
way of Sandy Hook.” 

“ That will never do. I’ve no wish to be parading the brig be- 
fore the town. A ou see, Muiford, nothing can be more innocent 
and proper than the ‘ Molly Swash,’ as you know from having 
sailed in her these twelve months. You’ll give her that character. 
I’ll be sworn?” 

”1 know no harm of her. Captain Spike, and hope 1 never shall. ” 

“ No, sir— you know no harm of her, nor does any one else. A 
nursing infant is not more innocent than the ‘ Molly Swash,’ or 
could have a clearer character, if nothing but truth was, said ot her. 
But the world is so much given to lying, that one of the old saints, 
of whom we read in the good book, such as Galvin and John Rogers, 
would be vilified if he lived in these times. Then, it must be ow^ned, 
Mr. Muiford, whatever may be the raal innocence of* the brig, she 
has a most desperate wicked look.” 

” Why, yes, sir— it must be owned she is what we sailors call a 
wicked-looking craft. But some of Uncle Sam’s cruisers have that 
appearance, also.” 

” 1 know it— I know it, sir, and think nothing of looks myself. 
Alen are often deceived in me, by my looks., which have none of your 
’longshore softness about ’em, perhaps; but my mother used to say I 
was one of the most tender-hearted boys she had eVer heard spoken of 
—like one of the babes in the woods, as it might be. But mankind 
go so much by appearances, that 1 don’t like to trust the brig too 
much afore their* eyes. Now, should we be seen in the lower bay, 
waiting for a wind, or for the ebb-tide to make, to carry us over 
the bar, ten to one but some philotropic or other would be oft with- 
a complaint to the district attorney that we looked like a slaver, 
and have us all fetched up to be tried for our lives as piratea. No, 


26 JACK TIER. 

no — I like to keep the brig in out-of-the-way places, where she can 
give no offense to your ’tropics, whether they be philos, or of any 
other sort.” 

“ Well, sir, we are to the eastward of the Gate, and all’s safe. 
That boat cannot bring us up.” 

” You forget, Mr. Mulford, the revenue-craft that steamed up, on 
the ebb. That vessel must be off 8ands’*Point by this time, and she 
may hear something to our disparagement from the feller in the 
boat, and take it into her smoky head to walk us back to town. 1 
wish we were well to the eastward of that steamer! But there’s no 
use in lamentations. If there is really any danger, it’s some dis- 
tance ahead yet, thank Heaven!” 

‘‘ You have no fears of the man who calls himself Jack Tier, 
Captain Spike?” 

” None in the world. That feller, as 1 remember him, was a lit- 
tle bustlin’ chap that I kept in the cabin, as a sort of steward’s mate. 
There was neitlier good nor harm in him, to the best of my recol- 
lection. But Josh can tell us all about him — Just gi^e Josh a 
call.” 

The best thing in the known history of Spike was the fact that 
his steward had sailed with him for more than twenty years. Where 
he ha^ picked up Josh, no one could say but Josh and himself, and 
neither chose to be very communicative on the subject. But Josh 
had certainly been with him as long as he had sailed the “ Swash,” 
and that was from a time actually anterior to the birth of Mulford. 

The mate soon had the negro in the council. 

‘‘ I say. Josh,” asked Spike, ” do you happen to remember such 
a hand aboard here as one Jack Tier?” 

” Lor’ bless you, yes, sir — ’members he as well as 1 do the pea 
soup that was burned, and which you ’trowed all over him, to scald 
him for punishment.” 

, ” I’ve had to do that so often, to one careless fellow or other, that 
the circumstance doesn’t recall the man. I remember him, but not 
as clear as.l could wish. How long did he sail with us?” 

” Sebberal v’y’ge, sir, and got left ashore down on the Main, one 
night, when ’e boat -were obliged to shove off in a hurry. Yes, 
’members little Jack right well, 1 does.” 

, “Hid you see the man that spoke us from the wharf, and hailed 
for this very Jack Tier?” 

” 1 see’d a man, sir, dat was won’erful Jack Tier built like, sir, 
but 1 didn’t hear the conwersation, habbin’ the ladies to ’lend to. 
But Jack was oncoramon short in his floor timbM’s, sir, and had no 
length of keel at all. His beam was won’erful tor his length, al- 
togedder— what you call jolly-boat, or bum-boat build, and was 
only good afore ’e wind, Cap’n Spike.” . 

‘‘ Was he good 'for anything aboard ship. Josh? Worth heaving- 
to for, should he try to get aboard of us again?” 

” Why, sir, 1 can’t say much for him in dat fashion. Jack was 
handy in de cabin, and capital feller to carry soup from the gaily, 
aft. Y"ou see, sir, he was so low-rigged that de brig’s lurchin’ and 
pitchin’ couldn’t get him oft his pins, and he stood up like a church 
in de heaviest wea’der. Yes, sir. Jack was right good for dat.'- 

Spike mused a moment— then he rolled ,the tobacco over in his 


JACK TIER. 27 

mouth, and addeti, in the ray a man speaks when his mind is made 
Tip— 

“ Ay, ay! 1 see into the fellow. lie’ll make a hand}'- lad 3 ^’a maid, 
and we want such a chap just now. It’s better to have an old friend 
aboard, than to be pickin’ up strangers, ’long shore. So, should 
this Jack" Tier come off to us, from, any of the islands or points 
ahead, Mr. Mulford, you’ll round-to and take him aboard. As tor 
the steamer, if she will only pass out into the Sound where there’s 
room, it shall go hard witu us but 1 get to the eastwaid of her, with- 
out speaking. On the other hand, should she anchor this side of the 
fort I’ll not attempt to pass her. There is deep water inside of 
most of the islands, 1 know,, and w'e’Il try and dodj^e her in that 
way, if no better offer. I've no more Reason than another craft to 
fear a government vessel, but the sight of one makes me oncom- 
fortable— that’s all.” 

Mulford shrugged his shoulders and remained silent, perceiving 
that his commander was not dilposed to pursue the subject any fur- 
ther. In the meantime, the brig had passed beyond the influence 
of the bluff, and was beginning to feel a stronger breeze, that was 
coming down the wide-opening ot Flushing Bay., As the tide still 
continued strong in her favor, and her motion through the water 
was getting to be tour or five knots, there was every prospect of her 
soon reaching VVhitestone, the point where the tides meet, and 
where it would become necessary to anchor; unless, indeed, the 
wind, which was now getting to the southward and eastward, 
should come round more to the south. All this Spike and his mate 
discussed together, w^hile the people were clearing the decks, and 
making the preparations that are customary on board a vessel be- 
fore she gets into rough water. 

B}’' this time it was ascertained that the brig had received' no 
damage by her salute of the Pot Kock, and every trace of uneasiness 
on that account was remov.ed.' But Spike kept harping on the boat, 
and “the pilot-looking chap who was in her.” As they passed 
Biker’s Island, all hands expected a boat would put off with a pilot, 
or to demand pilotage; but none came, and the “ Swash ” now 
seemed released from all her present dangers, unless some plight 
still be connected wilir the revenue steamer. To retard her advance, 
however, the wind came out a smart wmrking breeze from the 
southward and eastward, compelling her to make ” long legs and 
short ones ” on 1^* way toward Whitestone. 

‘‘This is bea8||g the wind. Rosy dear,” said Mrs. Budd, com- 
placently, she an^^er niece having returned to the deck a few min- 
utes after this chance had taken place. ‘‘ A'our respected uncle did 
.a great deal of this in his time, and w^as very successful in it. 1 
have heard him say, that iii one of his voyages between Liv^erpool 
and New Tork, he beat the wind by a whole fortnight, everybody 
talking of it in the insurance offices, as if it was a miracle.” 

, ” Ay, ay, Madam Budd,’* pul in Spike, ” I’ll answer for that. 
They’re desperate talkers in and about them there insurance offices 
in Wall Street. Great gossips be they, and they tl^iiuk they know 
everything. Now just- because this brig is a little old or so, and was 
built foK a privateer in the last war, they’d refuse to rate her as even 
B, No. 2, and my blessing on ’em,” 


28 JACK TIER. 

“ Yes, B, No. 2, that’s just what your dear uncle used to call me,. 
Rosy— his charipiDg B, No. 2, or Betsy, No. 2; particularly when 
he was in a loving mood. Captain Spike, did you ever beat the 
wind in a long voyage?” 

”1 can’t say 1 ever did, Mrs. Budd,” answered Spike, looking 
grimly around, to ascertain it any one dared to smile at his pas- 
senger’s mistake; ” especially for so long a pull as from New York 
to Liverpool.” 

” Then your uncle used to boast ot ‘ The Rose in Bloom’s ’ wear- 
ing and attacking. She would attack anything that came in her 
way, no matter who; and as tor wearing, 1 think he once told mo 
she would wear just what she had a mind to, like any human be- 
in^.” 

Rose was a little mystified, but she looked vexed at the same time; 
as if she distrusted all was not right. 

” 1 remember all my sea education,” continued the unsuspecting 
widow, ‘‘as it it had been learned yesterday. Beating the wind 
and attacking ship, my poor Mr. Budd used to say, were nice ma- 
neuvers, and required most of his tactics, especially in heavy 
weather. Did you know. Rosy dear, that sailors weigh the weather, 
and know when it is heavy and when it is light?” 

“ 1 did not, aunt; nor do 1 understand now how it can ver}’’ well 
be done.” 

“ Oh! child, before you have been at sea a w'eek, you will learn 
so many things that are new, and get so many ideas of which 3"ou 
never had any notion before, that you’ll not be rhe same person. 
My captain had an instrument he called a thermometer, and with 
that he used to weigh the weather, and then he would write down 
in a log-book ‘ to-day, heavy weather, or to-morrow, light w^eather,’ 
just as it happened, and that helped him mightily along in his voy- 
ages.” 

” Mrs. Budd has merely mistaken the name ot the instrument — 
the ‘ barometer * is what she wished to' say,” put in Mulford, op- 
portunely. 

Rose looked grateful, as well as relieved. Though profoundly 
ignorant on these subjects herself, she had always suspected her 
aunt’s knowledge. It was, consequently, grateful to her to ascer- 
tain that, in this instance, the old lady’s mistake had been so tri- 
fling. 

” Well, it may have been the barometer, for I know he had them 
both,” resumed the aunt. ‘‘Barometer, or thermometer, it don’t 
make any great difference; or quadrant, or sextant. They are all 
instruments, and sometimes he used one, and sometimes another. 
Sailors take on board the sun, too, and have an instrument for that, 
as well as one to weigh the weather with. Sometimes they take on 
board the stars, and tlie moon, and ‘ fill their ships with the heaven- 
ly bodies,’ as I’ve heard my dear husband say, again and again! 
But the most curious thing at sea, as all sailors tell me, is crossing 
the line, and 1 do hope we shall cross the line, Rosy, that you and 
] may see it.” 

‘‘ What is the line, aunty, and how do vessels cross it?” • 

” The line, my dear, is a place in the ocean where the earth is di- 
vided into two parts, one part being called the North Pole," and the 


JACK TIES. 29 

other part the South Pole. Neptune lives near this line, and he al- 
lows no vessel to go out of one pole into the other, without paying 
it a visit. Never, never! — he would as soon think of living on dry 
land as think of letting even a canoe pass, without visiting it. ” 

“Do you suppose there is such a being, really, as Neptune, 
aunty?*’ 

“ To be sure I do; he is king of the sea. Why shouldn’t there be? 
The sea must have a king, as well as the laud.” 

The sea may be a_ republic, aunty, like this country; then, no 
king is necessary. 1 have always supposed Neptune to be an imagi- 
nary being.” 

“ Oh, that’s impossible— the sea is no republic; there are but two 
republics, America and Texas. I’ve heard that the sea is a high- 
way, it is tiue — ‘ the highway of nations,' 1 believe it is called, and 
that must mean something particular. But my poor Mr. Budd al- 
ways told me that Neptune was king of the seas, and he was always 
so accurate, you might depend on everything he said. Why, he 
called his last Newfouadland dog Neptune; and do you think. 
Rosy, that your dear uncle would call his dog after an imaginary 
being — and he a man to beat the wind, and attack ship, and take, 
the sun, moon, and stars aboard ! No, no, child ; fanciful folk 
may see imaginary beings, but solid folk see solid beings.” 

Even Spike was dumtounded at this, and there is no knowing 
what he might have said, had not an old sea-do<r, who had just 
come out of the fore-topnaast cross-trees, waddled aft, and, hitch- 
, ing up his trousers with one hand while he touched his hat with 
the other, said with immovable gravity — 

“ The revenue steamer has brought up just under the fort. Cap- 
tain Spike.” 

“How do you know that. Bill?” demanded the captain, with a 
rapidity that showed how completely Mrs. Budd and all her absur- 
dities were momentaril}’^ forgotten. 

“ 1 was up on the fore-topgallant yard sir, a bit ago, just to look 
to the strap of the jf'wel-block, which wants some sarvice on it, and 
1 see’d her over, the land, blowin’ ofi: steam and takin’ in her kit^s. 
Afore 1 got out of the cross-trees, she was head to wind under bare 
poles, and if she hadn’t anchored, she was about to do so. I’m 
sartin ’twas she, sir, and that she was about to bring up.” 

Spike gave a long, low whistle, after his fashion, and he wajked 
-away from the females, with the air of a man who wanted room to 
think in. Half a minute later, he called out — 

“ Stand by to shorten sail, boys. Man fore-clew-garnets, flying- 
jib down haul, topgallant-sheets, and gaff-topsail gear. In with 
'em all, my l^ds — in with everything, with a will.” 

An order to deal with the canvas in any way on board ship, im- 
mediately commanas the whole attention of all whose duty it is to 
attend to such matters, and there was an end of all discourse while 
the “ Swash ” was shortening sail. Everybody understood, too, that 
it was to gain time, and prevent the brig from reaching Throg’s 
Neck sooner than was desirable. 

“ Keep the brig oft, ” called out Spike, “ and let her wear— we’re 
too busy to tack just now.’* 

The man at the wheel knew very well what was wanted, and he 


JACK TIER. 


30 - 

put his helm up, instead of putting it do\7n, as' he might have done 
without this injunction. As this change brought the brig before 
the wind, and Spike w^as in no hurry to luff up on the other tack, 
the “ Swash soon ran over a mile ot the distance she had already 
made, putting her back that much on her way to the Neck. It is 
out of our power to say what the people of the different craft in 
sight thought of all this, but an opportunitj^ soon offered ot putting 
them on a Wrong scent. A large coasting schooner, carrying every- 
thing that would draw on a wind, came stveeping under the stern- 
of the “ Swash,” and hailed. 

“Has anything happened on board that brig?” demanded iier 
master. 

“ Man overboard,” answered Spike; “ you haven’t seen his hat, 
have you?” 

“No, no,” came back, just as the schooner, in her onward 
course, swept beyond the reacli of the voice. Her people collected 
together, and one or two ran up the rigging a short distance, stretch- 
ing their necks, on the lookout for tlie “ poor fellow,” but they 
were soon called down to “ ’bout ship.” In less than live minutes, 
another vessel, a rakish coasting sloop, came within hail. 

“ Didn’t that brig strike the Pot Rock, in passing the Gate?” de- 
manded her captain. 

“ Ay, ay! and a devil of a rap she got, too.” 

This satisfied him ; tnere being nothing remarkable in a vessel’s 
acting strangely that had hit the Pot Roclv in passing Hell-Gate. . 

“1 think we may get in our mainsail on the strength of this, Mr. 
Miilford,” said Spike. “ There can be nothing oncommon in a 
craft’s shortening sail, that has a man overboard, and which has 
hit the Pot Rock 1 wonder 1 never thought ot all this before.” 

“Here is a skiff trying to get alongside of us, Captain Spike,” 
called out the boatswain. 

“ Skiff be d— d! I want no skiff here.” 

“ The man that calls himself Jack Tier is in her, sir.” 

“ The d— 1 he is!” cried Spike, springing over to the opposite 
side of the deck to take a look for himself. To his infinite satis- 
faction he perceived that Tier was alone in the skiff, with the ex- 
ception of a negro, who pulled its sculls, and that this was a very 
different boat from that which had glanced through Hell-Gate, like 
an arrow' darting from its bow. 

“Luff, and shake your topsails,” called out Spike. “Get a 
rope there to throw to" this skiff.” 

The orders were obeyed, and Jack Tier, with his clothes-bag, was 
soon on the deck of the “ Swash.” As for the skiff’ and the negro, 
they were cast adrift, the instant the latter had rec^eived his quarter. 
The meeting between Spike and his quondam siew'ard’s mate was 
a little remarkable. Each stood looking inlpntly at the other, as if 
to note the changes which time had made. We can not say that 
Spike’s hard, red, selfish countenance betrayed any great feeling, 
though such was not the case with Jack Tier’s. The last, a lym- 
phatic, puffy sort of a person at the best, seemed really a little 
touched, and he either actually bruslied a tear from his eye, oi he 
aff ected so to do. 

“ So, you are my old shipmate, Jack Tier, are ye?” exclaimed 


JACK TIER. 


31 


Spike, iu a halNpatronizinc:, Palf-hesi'tating way; “ and you want 
to iry the old craft ag’in. Give us a leaf of your log. apd let me 
know where you have been this many a day, and what you have 
been about? Keep the brig oft, Mr. Mulford. We are iu no par- 
ticular hurry to reach Throg’s, you’ll remember, sir.” 

Tier gave an account of his proceedings, which could have no in- 
terest with the reader. His narrative was anything but very clear, 
and it was delivered in a cracked, octave sort of a voice, such as lit- 
tle dapper people not unfrequently enjoy —tones between those of a 
man and a hoy. The substance of the whole story was this. Tier 
had been left ashore, as sometimes happens to sailors, and, by 
necessary connection, was left to shift for himself. After making 
some vain endeavors to rejoin his brig he had shipped in one vessel 
after another until he accidentally found himself in the port of New 
York at the same time as the ” Swash.” He know’d he never 
should be truly happy ag’in until he could once more get aboard 
the old hussy, and had hurried up to the wharf, where he under- 
stood the brig was lying. As he came in sight, be saw she was 
about to cast off, and, droppirg his clothes-bag, he had made the 
best of his way to the wharf, where the conversation passed that 
has been related. 

‘‘The gentleman on the wharf was about to take boat, to go 
through the Gate,” continued Tier, ” and so I begs a passage of 
him. He was good-natured enough to wait until 1 could 
find my bag,, and as soon a’terward as the men could get their grbg 
we shoved 'off. The ‘Molly’ was jhst getting in behind Black- 
well’s as we left the wharf, and, having four good oars, and the 
shortest road, we came out into the Gate just ahead on you. My 
eye! what a place that is to go through in a boat, and on a strong 
fiood! The gentleman, who watched the brig as a cat watches a 
mouse, says you struck on the Pot, as he called it, but 1 s^ys ‘No,’ 
for the ‘Molly Swash’ was never know’d to hit rock or shoal m 
my time aboard her.” 

‘‘ And wdiere did you quit that gentleman, and what has become 
of him?” asked Spike. 

‘‘ He put me ashore on that point above us, where 1 see’d a nig- 
ger with his skiff, who 1 thought would be willin’ to ’am his quar- 
ter by giving me a cast alongside. So here I am, and a long pull 
I’ve had to get here.” 

As this was said, Jack removed his hat and wiped his brow with 
a handkerchief, which, if it had never seen better days, had doubt- 
less been cleaner. After this, he looked about him, with an air hot 
entirely free from exultation. 

This conversation had taken place in the gangway, a somewhat 
public place, and Spike beckoned to his recruit to walk aft, where 
he might be questioned without being overheard. 

” What became of the gentleman in the boat, as you call him?” 
demanded Spike. 

‘‘ He pulled ahead, seeming to be in a hurry.” 

’ ‘ Do you know who he was?” ^ 

“ Not a bit of it. 1 never saw the man before, and he didn t tell 
me his business, sir.” 

‘‘ Had he anything like a silver oar about him?” 


8^ - JACK TIER. 

“1 saw nothine: of the sort, Captain Spike, and knows nothing 
coDsarning him,” 

' ‘‘ What sort of a boat was he in, and where did he get it?” 

” Well, as to the boat, sir, I can saj^ a word, seein’ it was so 
much to my mind, and pulled so wonderful smart. It was a light 
ship’? yawl, with four oars, and came round the Hook Just a’ler 
you had gq^t the brig’s head round to the eastward. You must ha\re 
seen it, I should think, though it kept close in with the wharves, 
as it it wished to be snug.” 

” Then the gentleman, as you call him, expected that very boat 
to come and taKe him oft?” 

‘‘ 1 suppose so, sir, because it did come and take him off. That’s 
all I know'S about it.” 

” Had you no Jaw with the gentleman? You wasn’t mum the 
whole time you was in the boat with him?'’ 

” Hot a bit of it, sir. Silence and 1 doesn’t agree together long, 
and so we talked most of the time.’’ 

‘‘ And what did the stranger say of the brig?” 

” Lord, sir, he catechised me like as if 1 had been a child at 
Sunday-school. He asked me now long I had sailed in her; what 
ports we’d visited, and what trade we’d been in. Y"ou can’t think 
the sight of questions he put, and how cur’ous he was for the an- 
swers.” 

And what did you tell him in your answers? You said noth- 
in’' about our call down on the Spanish Main, the time you were 
left ashore, 1 hope. Jack?” 

” Not 1, sir. 1 played him oft surprisin’ly. He got nothin’ to 
count upon out of me. Though 1 do owe the ‘ Molly Swash ’ a 
grudge, I’m not goin’ to betray her.” 

” You owe the" Molly Swash ’ a grudge I Have 1 taken an enemy 
on board her, then?” 

Jack started, and seeme^ sorry he had said so much; while Spike 
eyed him keenly. But the answer set all right. It was not given, 
however, without a moment for recollection. 

” Oh, you knows what 1 mean, sir. I ow^e the old hussy a grudge 
for having desarted me like; but it’s only a love quarrel atween us. 
The old ‘ Molly ’ will never come to harm by my means.” 

” 1 hope not. Jack. The man that wrongs the craft he sails in 
can never be a true-hearted sailor. Stick "by your ship ' in all 
weathers is my rule, and a good rule it is to go %. But what did 
you tell the stranger?” 

‘‘Oh! 1 told him I’d been six v’y’ges in the brig. The first 
was to Madagascar — ” 

The d— i you did! Was he soft enough to believe that?” 

‘‘ That’s more than 1 knows, sir. I can only tell you what 1 
said ; 1 don’t pretend to know how much he believed.'’ 

‘' Heave ahead — what next?” 

” Tlien 1 told him we went to Kamschatka tor gold-dust and 
ivory.” 

“ Whe-e-ew! What did the man say to that?” 

“"Why, he smiled a bit, and a’ter that beseemed more cur’ous 
than ever to hear all about it. 1 told him my third v’y’ge was to 
Oanton, with a cargo of broom corn, where we took in salmon and 


JACK TIER. 


33 

clun-fish for home. A’ter that Ave went to Norway with ice, and 
torought back silks and money. Our next run was to the Havana, 
Tvith salt and ’nips — ” 

“ ’Nipsl hat the devil be they?” 

‘‘ Turnips, you knows, sir. We always calls ’em ’nips in cargo. 
At the Havana 1 told him we took in leather and jerked beef, and 
came home. Oh! he got nothin’ from me. Captain Spike, that’ll 
ever do the brig a morsel ot harm.” 

” 1 am glad of that, Jack. You must know enongh of the seas 
to understand that a close mouth is sometimes better for a vessel 
than a clean bill of health. Was there nothing said about the rev- 
enue steamer?” ' 

” Now you name her, sir, 1 believe there was. Ay, ay, sir, the 
gentleman did say, if the steamer fetched up to the westward of the 
fort, that he should overhaul her without difficulty, on this flood.” 

” That’ll do. Jack — that’ll do, my honest fellow. Go below, and 
tell Josh to take you into the cabin again, as steward’s mate. 
'You’re rather too Dutch built, in your old age, to do much aloft,” 

One can hardly say whether Jack received this remark as compli- 
mentary, or not. He looked a little glum, for a man may be as 
round as a barrel, and wish to be thought genteel and slender; but 
he went below, in quest of .Tosh, without making any reply. 

The succeeding movements of Spike appeared to be much in- 
fluenced by what he lisd just heard. He kept the brig under short 
^canvas tor near two hours, sheering about in the same place, taking 
care to tell everything that spoke him that he had lost a man over- 
board. In this way, not only the tide, but the day itself, was nearly 
•spent. About the time the former began to lose its strength, how- 
-ever, the fore-course and the mainsail were got on the brigantine, 
with the intention of working her up toward Whitestone, where the 
tides meet, and near which the revenue steamer was known to be an- 
chored. We say near, though it was, in tact, a mile or two more 
to the eastward, and close to the extremity of the Point. 

Notwithstanding these demonstrations of a wish to work to wind- 
ward, Spike was really in no hurry. He had made up bis mind to 
pass the steamer in the dark, it possible, and the night promised to 
favor him; but, in order to do this, it might be necessary not to 
■come in sight of her at all; or, at least, not until the obscurity 
.should in some measure conceal his j’ig and character. In conse- 
qfuence of this plan, the '‘Swash” made no great progress, even 
:after she had got sail on her, on her old course. The wdnd lessened, ^ 
too, after the sun went down, though it still hung to the eastward, 
or nearly ahead. As the tide gradually lost its force, moreover, the 
set to windward became less and less until it finally disappeared al- 
together. ^ 

There is necessarily a short reach in this passage, where it is al- 
ways slack water, so far as current is concerned. This is precisely 
where the tides meet, or, as has been' intimated, at Whitestone, 
which is somewhat more than a mile to the westward of Throg- 
morton’s Neck, near the point of which stands Fort Schuyler, one 
of the work« recently erected for the defense of New York. Off 
the pitch of the point nearly mid channel, had the steamer an- 
chored, a fact of which Spike had made certain, by going aloft 


34 


JACK TIER. 


himself, and reconnoitering her over the land, Defore it had got to 
be too dark to do so. lie entertained no manner of doubt that this 
vessel was in waiting for him, and he well knew there was good 
rea^son lor it; but he woiild not return and -attempt the passage to 
sea by way of Sandy Hook- His manner ot. regarding the whole 
matter was cool and judicious. The distance to the Hook was too 
great to be made in such short nights ere the return of day, and he 
liad no manner of doubt he was watched for in that direction, as 
well as in this. Then he was particularly unwilling to show his 
craft at all in front of the town, even in the night. Moreover, he 
had ways of his own lor effecting his purposes, and this was the 
very" spot and time to put them in execution. 

While these things were floating in his mind, Mrs. Budd and her 
handsome niece were making preparations for passing the night, 
aided by Biddy Noon. The old lady was factotum, or factota, as 
it might be most classical to call her, though we are entirely with* 
out authorities on the subject, and was just as self-complacent and 
ambitious of seawomanship below decks, as she had been above 
board. The effect, however, gave Spike great satisfaction, since it 
kept her out of sight, and left him more at liberty to carry out his 
own plans. About nine, however, the good woman came on deck, 
intending to take a look at the weather, like a skillful marineress 
as she was, befor she turned in. Not a little was she astonished at 
what she then and there beheld, as she whispered to Rose and 
Biddy,both of whom stuck close to her side, feeling the want of 
good pilotage, no doubt, in strange waters. 

The “ Molly Swash ” was still under her canvas, though very 
little sufficed for her present purposes. She was directly off White* 
stone, and was. making easy stretches across the passage, or river, 
as it is called, having no^iiing set but her huge fore-and-aft main- 
sail and the jib. Under this sail she worked like a top, and Spike 
sometimes fancied she traveled too fast for his purposes, the night 
air having thickened the canvas as usual, until it “ held the wind 
as a bottle holds water.” There was nothing in this, however, to 
attract the particular attention of the shipmaster’s widow, a sail, 
more or less, being connected with observation much too critical for 
her schooling, nice as the last had been. She was surpiised to find 
the men stripping the brig forward, and converting her into a 
schooner. Nor was this done in a loose and slovenly manner, un- 
der favor of the obscurity. On the contrary, it was so well execut- 
ed that it migbt have deceived even a seaman under a noonday sun, 
provided the vessel were a mile or two distant. The manner in 
which the metamorphosis was made was as follows: the studding- 
sail booms had been taken off the topsail-yard, in order to shorten 
it to the eye, and the yard itself was swayed up about half mast, to 
give it the appearance of a schooner’s fore-yard. The brig’s real 
lower yard was lowered on the bulwarks, while her royal yard was 
sent down altogether, and the topgallant-mast was lowered until 
the heel rested on the topsail .yard, all of which, in the night, gave 
the gear forward very much the appearance of that ot a fore topsail 
schooner, instead of that of a half-rigged brig, as, the. craft really 
was. As the vessel carried a try-sail on her foremast, it answered 
very wesll, in the dark, to represent a schooner’s foresail. Several 


JACK. TIER. 35 

Other little dispositions of this nature were made, about which it 
might weary the uninitiated to read, but which'will readily suggest 
therhselvcs to the mind of a sailor. 

These alteratirms were far advanced when the females reappeared 
on deck. They at once attracted their attention, and the captain’s 
widow felt the imperative necessity, as connected with her profes- 
sional character, of proving the same. She soon found Spike, who 
was bustling around the deck, now looking around to see that his 
brig was kept in the channel, now and then issuing an order to 
complete her disguise. 

“ Captain Spike, what caw. be the meaning of all these changes? 
The tajuper of your vessel is so much altered, thni, 1 declare I 
should not have known her!” 

“ Is it, by George! Then she is just in the state 1 want her to be 

in.” 

” But why have you done it, and what does it all mean?” 

“ Oh, ‘ Molly’s ’ going to bed for the night, and she’s only un- 
dressing herself— that’s all.” 

“Ves, Rosy dear. Captain Spike is right. I remember that my 
poor Mr. Budd used to talk about ‘ The Rose In Bloom ’ having 
her clothes on, and her clothes off, just as if she was a born wom- 
an! But don’t you mean to navigate at all in the night. Captain 
Spike? Or will the brig navigate without sails?” 

” That’s it— she’s just as good in the dark, under one sort of can- 
vas, as under another. So, Mr. Mulford, we’ll take aWeef in that 
mainsail; it will bring it nearer to the size of our new foresail, and 
seem more ship-shape and Brister fashion; then 1 think she’ll do, 
as the night is getting to be rather darkish.” 

“ Captain Spike,” said the boatswain, who had -been set to look 
out for that particular change, ” the brig begins to feel the new 
tide, and sets to windward.” 

“ Let her go, then— now' is as good a time as another. We’ve got 
to run the gantlet, and the sooner it is done, the better.” 

As the moment seemed propitious, not only Mulford, but; all the 
people, heard this order with satisfaction. The night was star- 
light, though not very clear at that. Objects on the Water, how- 
ever, were more visible than these on the land, while those on the 
last could be seen well enough, even from the brig, though in con- 
fused and somewhat shapeless piles. When the “ Swash ” was 
brought close by the wind, she had just got into the last reach of 
the ” river,” or that which runs parallel with the Neck for nearly 
a mile, doubling where the Sound expands itself, gradually, to a 
breadth of many leagues. Still the navigation at the entrance of 
this end of the Sound was intricate and somew'hat dangerous, ren- 
dering it indispensable for a vessel of any size to niake a crooked 
course. The wind stood at south-east, and was very scant to lay 
through the reacli with, while the tide was so slack as barely to 
possess a visible current at that plaee. The steamer lay directly off 
the Point, mid-channel, as mentioned, showing lights, to mark her 
position to anything which might be passing in or out. The great 
thing was to get by her without exciting her suspicion. As all on 
board, the females excepted, knew what their captain was at, the 
attempt was made amid an anxious and profound silence ; or, it any 


JACK TIER. 


36 

one spoke at all, it was only to ^>:ive an order in^ low tone, or- its 
answer in a simple monosyllable. 

Although her aunt assured her that everything which had been 
done already, and which was now doing, was quite in jule, the 
quick-eyed and quick-witted Hose noted these unusual proceedings, 
and had an opinion of her own on the subject. Spike had gone for- 
ward, and posted himself on the weather-side of the forecastle, 
where he could get the clearest look ahead, and there he remained 
most of the time, leaving Mulford on the quarter-deck, to work the 
vessel. Perceiving this, she managed to get near the mate without 
attracting her aunt’s attention, and at the same time oiit of ear-shot. 

Why is everybody so still and seemingly so anxious, Harr}’^ Mul- 
ford?” she asked, speaking in a low tone herself, as it desirous of 
conforming to a common necessity; ” is there any new danger here? 
1 ihbught the Gate had been passed altogether, some hours ago?” 

” So it has. D’ye see that large dark mass on the water, off the 
Point, which seems almost as huge as the fort, with lights above 
it? That is a revenue steamer which came out of York a few 
hours before us. We wish to get past her without being troubled 
by any of her questions.” 

“ And what do any in this brig care about her questions? They 
can be answered, surely.” 

” Ay, ay. Rose — they may be answered, as you say, but the an- 
swers sometimes are unsatistactory. Captain Spike, for some reason 
or other, is uneasy, and would rather not have anything to say to 
her. He has the greatest aversion to speaking the smallest craft 
when on a coast.” 

” And thatls the reason he has undressed his ‘ Molly,’ as he calls 
her, that he might not be known.” 

Mulford turned his head quickly toward his companion, as if 
surprised by her quickness of apprenension ; but he had too just a 
sense of his duty to make any reply. Instead of pursuing the dis- 
course. he adroitly contrived to change it, by pointing out to Rose 
the manner in which they were getting on, which seemed to be very 
successfully. 

Although the “ Swash ” was under much reduced canvas, she 
glided along with great ease and with considerable rapidity of mo- 
tion. The heavy night air kept her canvas distended, and the 
Weatherly set of the tide, trifling as it yet was, pressed her up against 
the breeze, so as to turn all to account, it was apparent enough, 
by the manner in which objects on the land were passed, that the 
crisis was fast approaching. Rose rejoined her aunt, in order to 
await the result, in nearly breathless expectation. At that moment, 
she wPuld have given the world to be sate on shore. This wish was 
not the consequence of any constitutional timidity, for Rose was 
much the reverse from timid, but it was the fruit of a newly aw^ak- 
ened and painful, though still vague, suspicion. Happy, thrice 
happy was it for one of her naturally conflding and guileless nat- 
ure, that distrust thus opportunely awakened, for she w'as with- 
out a guardian competent to advise and guide her youth-, as circum- 
stances required. 

The brig was not long in reaching the passage that opened to the 
Sound. It is probable she did this so much the sooner because 


JACK TIEK. 


37 

Spii?e kept her a little off the wind, with a view of not passing too 
near the steamer. At this point, the direction of the passage changes 
at nearly a right angle, the revenue steamer lying on a line with the 
Keck, and leaving a sort of bay, in the ancle, tor the “ Swash " to 
enter. The land was somewhat low in all directions but one, and 
that was by drawing a straight line trom the Point, through the 
steamer, to the Long Island shore. On the latter, and in that quar- 
ter, rose a bluff of considtrable elevation, with deep water quite 
near it; and, under the shadows of that bluff. Spike intended to 
perform his nicest evolutions, lie saw that the revenue vessel had 
let her fires go down, and that she was entirely without steam. Un- 
der canvas, he had no doubt of beating her hand over hand, could 
he once fairly get to windward; and then she was at anchor, and 
would lose some time in getting under way, should she even com- 
mence a pursuit. It was all-important, therefore, to gain as much 
to windward as possible', before the people of the government vessel 
took the alarm. 

There can be no doubt that the alterations made on board the 
“ Swash " served her a very good turn on this occasion. Although 
the night could not be called positively dark, there w^as sufficient 
obscurity to render her hull confused and indistinct at any distance, 
and this so much the more wdren seen from the steamer outside, or 
between her and the land. All this Spike very well understood, and 
largely calculated on. In effect he was not deceived; the lookouts 
on board the revenue craft could trace little of the vessel that was 
approaching beyond the spars, and sails which rose above the shores, 
and these seemed to be the spars and sails of, a common fore-topsail 
schooner. As this was not the sort of craft for which they w’^ere on 
the watch, no suspicion was awakened, nor did any reports go from 
the quarter-deck to the cabin. The steamer had her quarter-watches 
and officers of the deck, like a vessel of war, the discipline of which 
was fairly enough imitated; but even a rnan-of-var may be over- 
reached on an occasion. 

Spike was only great in g crisis, and then merely as a seaman. 
He understood his calling to its minutiae, and he understood the 
‘‘ Molly Swash " better than he understood any other craft that 
floated. For more than twenty years had he sailed her, and the 
careful parent does not better understand the humors of the child, 
than he understood exactly what might De expected from his brig. 
His satisfaction sensibly increased, therefore, as she stole along the 
land, toward the angle mentioned, without a sound audible but the 
gentle gurgling of the water, stirred by the stem, and which sound- 
ed like the- ripple of The gentlest wave, as it washes the shingle of 
some placid beach. 

As the brig drew nearer to the bluff, the latter brought the wind 
more ahead, as respected the desired course. This was unfavorable, 
but it did not disconcert her watchful commander. 

‘‘ Let her cone round, Mr. Mulford," said this pilot-captain, in 
a low voice; “ we are as near in as we ought to go." 

The helm was put down, the head sheers started, and away into 
the wind shot the “ Molly Swash," fore-reaching famously in stays 
and, of course, gaining so much on her tfue course. In a minute 
she was round, and filled on the other tack. Spike was now so near 


43S 


JACK TIER. 


the land, that he could perceive the tide was beginning to aid him. 
and that his wealherly set was getting to be considerable. De- 
lighted at this, he walked aft, and told Mulford to go about again 
as soon as the vessel had sufficient way to make sure of her in stays. 
The mate inquired if he did not think the revenue people might 
suspect something, unless thdy stood further out toward mid-chan- 
nel; but Spike reminded him that they would be apt to think the 
schooner was working up under the southern shore, because the ebb 
first made there. This reason satisfied Mulford, and, as soon as 
they were half-way between the bluff and the steamer, the “ Swash ” 
was again tacked, with her head to the formei. TliisTnaneuver w^as 
executed when the brig was about two hundred yards from the 
steamer, a distance that was sufficient to preserve, under .all the cir- 
cumstances, the disguise she had assumed. 

“ They do not suspect us, Harry,” whispered Spike to his mate. 
“We shall get to windward of ’em, as sartain as the breeze stands. 
That boatin’ gentleman might as welbhave stayed at home, as for 
any good his hurry done him, or his employers!” 

“ Whom do you suppose him to' be. Captain Spike?” 

“ Who? A feller that lives by his own wicked deeds. No mat- 
ter who he is. An informer, perhaps. At any rate, lie is not the 
man to outwit the ‘ Molly Swash,’ and her old,- stupid, foolish mas- 
ter and owner, Stephen Spike. Luff, Mr. Mulford, luff. Nbw’s 
the time to make the most of your leg — luff her up and shake her. 
She is setting to windward fast, the ebb is sucking along that bluff 
like a boy at a molasses hogsliead. All she can drift on this tack is 
clear gain; there is no hurry, so long as the}" are asleep aboard the 
steanrer. That's it— make a half-board at once, but lake care and 
not come round. As soon as we are fairly clear of the bluff, and 
open the bay that makes up behind it, we shall get the wind more to 
tile southward, and have a fine long leg for the next stretch.' 

Of course Mulford obeyed, throwing the brig up into the wind, 
and allowing her to set to windward, but filling again on the same 
lack, as ordered. This, of course, delayed her progress toward the 
land, and protracted the agony, but- it carried the vessel in the di- 
rection she most wished to go, while it kept her not only end on to 
the steamer, but in a line with the bluff, and consequently in the 
position most favorable to conceal her true character. Presently, 
the bay mentioned, which was several miles deep, opened darkly 
toward the south, and the wind came directly out of it, or more to 
the southward. At this moment the “ Swash ” was near a quarter 
cf a mile from the steamer, and all that distance dead to windward 
of her, as the breeze came out of the bay. Spike lacked_his vessel 
himself now, and got her head up so high that Hie brought the 
steamer on her lee quarter, and looked away toward the island 
which lies northwardly from the Point, and quite near to which 
all vessels of any draught of w"ater are compelled to pass, even with 
the fairest winds. 

“ Shgke the reef out of the mainsail, Mr. Mulford,” said Spike, 
when the “ Swash ” was fairly in motion again on this advantage- 
ous tack. “ We shall pass well to windward of tlie steamer and 
may as well begin to open our cloth again.” 

“ Is it not a little ton soon, siry” Mulford ventured to remon- 


JACK TIER. 


39 


strafe; “ the reef is a large one, and will make a great difference in 
the size of the sail.” 

” They’ll not see it at this distance. No, no, sir; shake out tho 
reet, and sway away on the topgallant-mast rope; I’m for bringing 
the ‘Molly Swash ’ into her old shape again, and make her look 
handsome once more.” 

” Do you dress the brig, as well as undress her, o’ nights, Captain 
Spike?” inquired the ship-master’s reli(;t, a little puzzled with this 
fickleness of purpose. ‘‘ 1 do not believe my poor Mr. 15udd ever 
did that.” 

‘‘ Fashions change, madam, with Ihe times— ay, ay, sir— shake 
out the reef, and sw^ay away on that mast-rope, boys, as soon as 
you have manned it. We’ll convarl our schooner into a brig again. 

As these orders were obeyed, of course a general bustle now took 
place. Mulford soon had tlie reef out, and the sail distended to the 
, utmost, while the topgallant- mast was soon up and fidded. The 
next thmg was to sway upon the fore-yard, and get that into its 
place. The people were busied at this duty, when a hoarse hail 
came across the water on the heavy night aiv. 

” Brig ahoy! ’ was the call. 

‘‘ Sway upon that fore-yard,” said Spike, unmoved by this sum 
mons— “ start it, start it at once.” 

” Tiie steamer hails us, sir,” said the mate. 

” Not she. She is hailing a brig; we are a schooner yet.” 

A moment of active exertion succeeded, during which the fore- 
yard went into its place. Then came a second hail. 

” Schooner ahoy!” was the summons this time. 

” The steamer hails us again. Captain Spike.” 

■ ” The devil a bit. We’re a brig now, and she hails a schooner. 
Come, boys, bestir yourselves, and get the canvas on ‘ Molly ' 
for’ard. Loose the fore-course before you quit the yard there, then 
up aloft and loosen everything 3^11 can find.” 

All was done as ordered, and done rapidly, as is ever the case on 
board a well-ordered vessel when there is occasion for exertion. 
That occasion now appeared to exist in earnest; for, while the men 
were sheeting home the topsail, a flash of light illuminated the 
scene, when the roar of a gun came booming across the water, suc- 
ceeded by the very distinct whistling of its shot. We regret that 
the relict of the late Captain Biidd did not behave exactly as be- 
came a shipmaster’s widow, under fire. Instead of remaining silent 
and passive, even while frightened, as was the case with Rose, she 
screamed quite as loud as sne had previously done that very day in 
Hell Gate. It appeared to Spike, indeed, that practice was mak- 
ing her perfect; and, as for Biddy, the spirit of emulation became 
so powerful in her bosom, that, if anything, she actually out- 
shrieked her mistress. Hearing this, the widow made a second effort, 
and fairly recovered the ground some might have fancied she had 
lost. 

“Ohl Captain Spike,” exclaimed the agitated widow, ” do not^ 
do not— if you love me, do not let them fire again!” 

” Plow am 1 to help it?” asked the captain, a good deal to the 
point, though he overlooked the essential fact, that, by heavingdo, 
and waiting for the steamer’s boat to board him, he might have pre- 


40 


JACK TIEIi. 


vented a second shot, as completely^ as if he had the ordering of 
the whole affair. No second shot was filed, however. As it after- 
ward appeared, the screams of Mrs. Budd and Biddy were heard on 
board the steamer, the captain of which, naturally enough, suppos- 
ing that the slaughter must be terrible where such cries Lad arisen, 
was satisfied with the mischief he had already done, and directed 
his people to secure their gun, and go to the capstan-bars, in order 
to help lift the auchor. In a word, the revenue vessel was getting 
under way, man-of-war fashion, which means somewhat expedi- 
tiously. 

SpiUe understood the sounds that reached him, among which 
was the call of the boatswain, and he bestirred himself according- 
ly. Bxperienced as he was in chases and all sorts of nautical arti- 
fices, he very well knew that bis situation was sufficiently critical. 

It would have been so, with a steamer at his heels, in the open 
ocean; but, situated as he was, he w^^s compelled to steer but one 
course, and lo accept the wind on that course as it might offer. If 
he varied at all in his direction, it was only in a trifling way, though 
he did make some of these variations, hveiy moment was now 
precious, however, and he endeavored to improve the- time to the 
utmost. He knew that he could greatly outsail the revenue vessel, 
under canvas, and some time would be necessary lo enable her to 
get up her steam— half an hour at the very least. On that half 
hour, then, depended the fate of the “ Molly Swash.” 

” Send the booms on the yards, and set stun’sails at once, Mr. 
Mulford,” said Spike, the instant the more regular canvas was 
spread forward. “ This wind will be free enough for all but the 
lower stun’sail, and we must drive the brig on.” ' 

” Are we not looking up too high. Captain Spike? The Stepi- 
ping- Stones are ahead of us, sir.” 

” 1 know that very well, Mulford. But it’s nearly high water, 
and the brig’s in light trim, and we may rub and go, By making 
a short cut here, we shall gain a full mile on the steamer: that mile ^ 
may save us.” 

” Do you really think it possible to get away from that craft, 
which can always make a fair wind of it, in these narrow waters, 
Captain Spihe?” 

” One don’t know, sir. Nothin’ is done without try in’, and by 
try in’ more is often done than was hoped for. 1 have a scheme in 
my head, and Providence may favor me in bringing it about.” 

"Providence! The religionist quarrels with the philosopher, if the 
latter happen to remove this interposition ot a higher Power, even ' 
so iriflingly as by the intervention ot secondary agencies, while the 
biggest rascal dignifies even his success by such phrases as Provi- 
dential aid! But it is not suiprising men should misunderstand 
teims, when they make such sad confusion in the acts which these 
terms are merely meant to represent. Spike had his Providence as 
well as a priest, and we dare say he often counted on its succor, 
with quite as rational grounds ot dependence as many of the phari-- 
sees wdio are constantly exclaiming, ” The Temple of the Lord, the 
Temple ot the Lord are these.” 

Sail was made on board the ‘‘.Swa^h ” with great rapidity, and 
the brig made a bold push at the Stepping-Stones. Spike was a 


JACK TIER. 


41 

capital pilot. He insisted if he could once gain sight of the spar 
that was moored on those rocks for a buoy, he should run with 
crieat confidence. - The two lights were 9t-great assistance, of course; 
but the revenue vessel could see these lights as well as the brig, 
and Sihe, doubtless, had an excellent pilot on board. By the time the 
studding-sails were set on board the “Swash,” the steamer was 
aweigh, and her long line of peculiar sails became visible. Unfort- 
unately for men who were in a hurry, she lay so much within the 
bluff as to get the wind scant, and her commander thouglit it neces- 
sary to make a stretch over to the southern shore, before he attempt- 
ed to lay his course. “When he was ready to tack, an operation of 
some time with a vessel of her great length, the “Swash” was 
barely visible.in the obscurity, gliding off upon a slack bowline, at 
a rate which nothing but the damp night air, the ballast-trim of the 
vessel, united to her excellent sailing qualities, could have pro- 
duced with so light a breeze. 

The first half liour took the “ Swash ” completely out of sight of 
the steamer. In that time, in truth, by actual superiority in sailing, 
by hex greater state of preparation, and by the distance saved by a 
bold navigation, she had gained fully a league on her pursuer. 
But, while the steamer had lost sight of the “ Swash,” the latter 
kept the former in view, and that by means of a signal that was 
very portentous. She saw the light of the steamer’s chimneys, and 
could form some opinion of her distance and position. 

It was about eleven o’clock when the “ Sw’ash ” passed the light 
at Sands Point, close in with the land. I'lie wind stood much as 
it had been. If there was a change at all, it was half a point more 
to the southward, and it was a little fresher. Such as it was. Spike 
saw he was getting, in that smooth water, quite eight knots out of 
his craft, and he made his calculations thereon. As yet, and possibly 
for half an hour longer, he was gaining, and might hope to continue 
to gain on the .steamer. Then her turn would come. Though r^o 
great traveler, it was not to be expected that, favored by smooth 
water and the breeze, her speed would be less thau ten knots, while, 
there was no hope of increasing his own without an increase of the 
wind. He might be five miles in advance, or six at the most; these 
six miles would be overcome in three hours of steaming, to a dead 
certainly, and they miglii possibly be overcome much sooner. It 
was obviously necessary to resort to some other experiment than 
that of dead sailing, if an escape was to be effected. 

The Sound was now several miles in width, and Spike, at first,, 
proposed to his mate to keep oft dead before the wind, and by cross- 
ing over to the north shore, let the steamer pass ahead, and con- 
tinue a bootless chase to the eastward. Several vessels, however, 
were visible in the middle of the passage, at distances varying from 
one to three miles, and Mulford pointed out the hopelessness of at- 
tempting to cross the sheet of open water, and expect to go unseen, 
by the watchful eyes of the revenue people. 

“ What you say is true enough, Mr. Mulford,” answ’ered Spike, 
after a moment of profound reflection, “ and every foot that they 
come nearer, the less will be our chance. Bqt here is Hempstead 
Harbor a lew leagues ahead; if we can reach that before the black- 
guards close, we may do well enough. It is a deep bay, and has 


42 


J^CK TIER. 


Jiigh laud to darken tlie view. 1 don’t tliink the brig*could be seen 
at midnight by anything outside, if she was once fairly up that 
water a mile or two. ” 

“ That is our chance, sir!”’ exclaimed Mulford cheerfully. “ Ay, 
a 3 % 1 know the spot', and everything is favorable — try that. Captain 
f^pike; I’ll answer for it that we go clear.” 

ISpike did try it. For a considerable time longer he stood on, 
keeping as close to the land as he thought it safe to run, and carry- 
ing everytning that would draw. But the steamer was on his heels, 
evidently gaining fast. Her chimneys gave out flame|, and there 
was every sign that her people were in earnest. To those on board 
the ” Swash ” these flames seeemd to draw nearer each instant, as 
indeed was the fact, and just as the breeze came fresher out ot the 
ppeninfT in the hills, or the low mountains which siirrounded the 
place of refuge in which they designed to enter, Midtord an- 
nounced that by aid of the night-glas^ he could distinguish both 
sails and hull of their pursue^. Spike look a look, and throwing 
down the instrument, in a way to endanger it, he ordered the stud- 
ding-sails taken in. The men went aloft like cats, and worked as 
if they could stand in air. In a minute or two the ‘‘ Swash ” was 
under wbat Mrs. Budd might have called her “ attacking ’’canvas, 
and was close by the wind, looking on a good leg well up the har- 
bor. The brig seemed to be conscious of the emergency, and glid- 
ed ahead at capital speed. In flve minutes she had shut in the flam- 
ing chimneys of the steamer. In flve minutes more Spike tacked, 
to keep under the westein side of the harbor, and out ot sight as 
long as possible, and because he thought the breeze drew down 
fresher where he was than more out in the bay. 

• All now depended on the single fact whether the brig had been 
seen from the steamer or not, before she hauled into the bay. If 
seen, she had probably been watched; if not seen, there w^ere strong 
grounds for hoping that she might still escape. About a quarter of 
an hour after Spike hauled up, the burning chimne 3 ’^s came again 
into view. The brig was then half a league within the bay, with a 
line dark background of hills to throw her into shadow. Spike 
ordered everything taken in but the trysail, under which the brig 
was left to set slowly over toward the western side ot the harbor. 
He now rubbed his hands with delight, and pointed out to Mulford 
the circumstance that the steamer kept on her course directly ath- 
wart the harbor’s mouth! Had she seen the “Swash,” no doubt 
she would have turned into the buy also. Nevertheless, an anxious 
ten minutes succeeded, during which the revenue vessel steamed 
fairly past, and shut in her flaming chimneys again by the eastern 
headlands of the estuary. 

CHAPTER 111. 

The western wave was all a-flame, 

The day was well-nigh done, 

Almost upon the western wave 
Rested the broad bright sun; 

When that strange ship drove suddenly 

Betwixt us and the sun. —The Ancient Mariner. 

At that hour, on the succeeding morning, when the light of day 
fe just beginning to chase away the shadow's of night, the “ Molly 


JACK TIER. 


43 

Swash ” became visible within the gloom of the high land which 
surrounds so much of the bay of Hempstead, _ under easy sail, back- 
ing and filling, in order to keep within her hiding-place, until a 
look could bo had at theslateof things without. Half an hour later, 
she was so near the entrance of the estuary, as to enable the look- 
outs aloft to ascertain that the coast was clear, when Spike ordered 
the helm to be put up, and the brig to be kept away to her course. 
At this precise moment, Hose appeared on deck, refreshed by the 
sleep of a quiet night, and with cheeks tinged with a color even 
more delicate than that which was now glowing in the eastern sky, 
and almost as brilliant. 

“ \ye stopped in this bit of a harbor lor the night, Miss Rose, that 
is all,” said Spike, observing that his fair passenger was looking 
about her, in some little surprise, at finding the vessel so near the 
land, and seemingly so much out of her proper position. “Yes, we 
always do that, when w^e first start on a v’y’ge, and before the brig 
gets used to traveling— don't we, Mr. Mulfonl?” 

Mr. Mulford, who knew how hopeless was the attempt to mystify 
Rose, as one might mystify her credulous and weak-mimled aunt, 
and who had no disposition to deal anyway but fairly by the beauti- 
ful, and in one sense now helpless young creature before him, did 
not see fit to make any reply. Ofiend Spike he did not dare to do, 
more especially under present circumstances; and mislead Rose he 
would not. He affected not to hear the question, therefore, but 
issuing an order about the head-sails, he walked forward as if to see 
it executed. Rose herself was not under as much restraint as the 
young mate. 

‘‘ It is convenient. Captain Spike,” she coolly answered for Mul- 
ford, ” to have stopping-places for vessels that are wearied, and 1 
remember the time when my uncle used to tell me of such matters-, 
very much in thq same vein; but, it was before 1 was twelve years 
old.” 

Spike hemmed, and he looked a little foolish, but Clench, the 
boatswain, comin<r aft to say something to him in confidence, just 
at that moment, he was enabled to avoid the awkwardness of at- 
tempting to explain. This man Clench, or Clinch, as the name was 
pronounced, was deep in the captain’s secrets, far more so, than 
was his mate, and would have been filling Mulford’s station at that 
very time, had he not been hopelessly ignorant of navigation. On 
the present occasion, his business was to point out to the captain 
two or three lines of smoke that were visible above the water of the 
Sound, in the eastern board; one of -whicli he was apprehensive 
might turn out to be the smoke. of the revenue craft, from which 
they had so recently escaped. 

” Steamers are no rarities in Long Island Sound, Clench,” ob- 
served the captain, leveling his glass at the most suspected of the 
smokes. ” That must be a Providence, or Stonington chap, coming 
west with the Boston train.” 

” Either of them would have been further west by This time. Cap- 
tain Spike,” returned the doubting, but watchful boatswain. “ It's 
a large smoke, and 1 fear it is the revenue fellow coming back, afto* 
having had a look well to the eastward, and satisfying himself that 
we are not to be had in that quarter.” 


JACK TIER. 


44 

Spike growled out his assent to the possibility of such a conject- 
ure, and promised via'ilauce. This satisfied his subordinate for the 
, moment, and he walked forward, or to the place where he belonged. 
In 1 he meantime, the widow came on deck, smiling, and snuffing 
the salt air, and ready to be delighted with anything that was mari- 
time. 

“Good-morning, Captain Spike,” she cried. “ Are we in the 
offing, yet?— you know 1 desired to be told when we are in the 
ofiing, for 1 intend to write a letter to my poor IVJr. Budd’s sister, 
Mrs. Sprague, as soon as we get to the offing.” • 

“ Wnatls the offing, a;unt?” inquired the hands^ome niece. 

“ Why you have hardly been at sea Ibng enough to understand 
me, child, should 1 attempt to explain. The offing, however, is the 
place where the last letters are alw^ays written to the owners, and to 
friends ashore. The term comes, I suppose, from the circum stance 
that the vessel is about to be off, and it. is natural to think of those 
we leave behind, at such a moment. I intend to write to your Aunt 
Sprague, my deaf, the instant I hear we are in the offing; and what 
is more, I intend to make you my amanuensis.” 

“ But how will the letter be sent, aunty? 1 have no more objec- 
tion to writing than any one else, but 1 do not see how the letter is 
to be sent. Really, the sea is a curious region, with its stopping- 
places for the night, and its offings to write letters at!” 

“ Yes, it’s all as you say. Rose — a most remarkable region is the 
sea! Ton’ll admire it, as I admire it, when you come to know it 
better; and as your poor uncle admired it, and as Captain Spike ad- 
mires it, too. As for the letters, they can be sent ashore by the pilot, 
as letters are always sent.” 

“ But, aunty, there ^sno pilot in the ‘ Swash ’ — for Captain Spike 
refused to take one on board.” 

“ Rose! — you don’t understand what you are talking about! No 
vessel ever yet sailed without a pilot, if indeed any can. It’s op- 
posed to the law, not to have a pilot; and now 1 remember to have 
heard 3mur dear uncle say it wasn’t a voyage if a vessel didn’t take 
away a pilot.” 

“ But if they take them away, aunty, how can they send the let- 
ters ashore by them?” 

“Poh! poh! child; you don’t know what you are saying; hut 
you’ll overlook it, 1 hope. Captain Spike, for Rose is quick, and 
will soon learn to know better. As if letters couldn t be sent ashore 
by the pilot, though he was a hundred thousand miles from land! 
But, Captain Spike, you must let me know when we are about to 
get off the Sound, for 1 kuow that the pilot is always sent ashore 
with his letters, before the vessel gets off the Sound.” 

“ Yes, yes,” returned the captain, a little mystified by the widow, 
thouah he knew her so well, and understood her so well — “ you 
shall know, ma’am, when we get off soundings, for 1 suppose that 
is what you mCan.” 

“ What is the ditference? Off the Sound, or oft the soundings, 
of course must mean the same thing. But, Rosy, we will go below^ 
and write to your aunt at once, lor 1 see a lighthouse jmndet, and 
lighthouses are always put just off; the soundings.” 

Rose, who always suspected her aunt’s nautical talk, though she 


i 


JACK I^IER. 


45 

did not know how to correct it, was not sorry to put an ena to it, 
now, by going below, and spreading her own writing materials, in 
readiness to write as the other dictated. Biddy Noon was present, 
sewing on sonie^ of her own finery, • 

“ Now, write as I tell you, Rose,” commenced the widow; 

“ My dear sister Sprague— Here we are, at last, just off the sound- 
ings, with lighthouses all around us, and so man}'" capes and islands 
in sight, that it does seem as it the vessel never could find its way 
through them all. Some of these islands must be the West Indies — ” 

” Aunty that can never be!” exclaimed Rose— “ we left New 
York only yesterday.” 

” What of that? Had it been old times, 1 grant you several days 
might be necessary to get a sight of ihe West Indies, but, now, 
when a letter can be written to a friend in Boston, and an answer, 
received in half an hour, it requires no such time to go to the West 
Indies. Besides, what other islands are there in this part of the 
world? They can’t be England—” 

“No-no,” said Rose, at once seeing it would be preferable to 
admit they were the West Indies; so the letter went on: 

“ Some of these islands must be the West Indies, and it is high 
time we saw some of them, for we are nearly ofl; the Sound, and 
the lighthouses are getting to be quite numerous. 1 think we have 
already seen four since we left the wharf. But, my dear sister 
Sprague, you will be delighted to hear how much better Rose’s 
health is already becoming — ” 

“ My health, aunty! VVhy, 1 never knew an ill day" in my life!” 

“ Don't tell me that, my darling: 1 know too well what all these 
deceptive appearances of health amount to, 1 would not alarm you 
for the world. Rosy dear, butacaieful parent— and I’m your parent 
in affection, if not by nature — but a careful parent’s eye is not to 
be deceived. 1 know you look well, but you are ill, my child; 
though. Heaven be praised, the sea air and hydropathy are already 
doing you a monstrous deal of good.” 

As Mrs. Budd concluded, she wiped her eyes, and appeared really 
glad that her niece had a less consumptive look than when she erh- 
barked. Rose sat gazing at her aunt, in mute astonishment. She 
knew how much and truly she was beloveii, and that induced her 
to be more tolerant of her connection’s foibles than even duty de- 
manded. Feeling was blended with her respect, but it was almost 
too much for her to learn that this long, and in som^ respecis pain- 
ful voyage, was undertaken on her account, and without the small- 
est necessity for it. The vexation, however, would have been largely 
.increased, but for certain free communicationsthat had occasionally 
occurred between her and the handsome mate, since the moment of 
her coming on board the brig. Rose knew that Harry Miiltord 
loved her, too, for he had told her as much with a seaman’s frank- 
ness; and though she had never let him know that his partiality 
was returned, her woman’s heart was fast inclining toward him, 
with all her sex’s tenderness. This made the mistake of her aunt 
tolendM, though Rose was exceedingly vexed it should ever have 
occurred. 

“ Why, my dearest aunt,” she cried, “ they told me it was on 
:your account that this voyage was undertaken!” 


46 


Ji^CK TIEil. 


“ I know they did, poor dear Rosy, and that was in order not to 
alarm you. Some persons of delicate constitutions—” i 

” But my constitution is not in the least delicate, aunt; on the 
contrary, it is as good as possible; a blessing tor which, 1 trust, I 
' am truly grateful. 1 did not know but you might be suffering,- 
though you do look so well,- tor they all agreed in telling me you 
had need ot a sea voyage.” 

1, a subject tor hydropathy! Why, child, water is no more 
necessary to me than it is to a cat.” 

” But going: to sea, aunt, is not hydropathy—” 

” Don’t say that, Rosy; do not say that, my dear. It is hydro- 
- pathy on a large scale, as Captain Spike says, and when he gets us 
“ into blue water, he has promised that you shall have all the benefits 
of the treatment.” 

Rose was silent and thoughtful; after which she spoke quicjily, 
like one to whom an important thought had suddenly occurred. 

“And Captain Spike, then, was honsulled in my case?” she 
asked. 

“He was, my dear, and you have every reason to be grateful to 
him. He was the first to discover a change in your appearance, ' 
and to suggest a sea voyage. Marine hydropathy, he said, he was 
sure would get you up again ; for Captain Spike thinks your con- 
stitution good at the bottom, though the high color you have proves 
too high a state of habitual excitement.” 

, “ Was Dr. Monson consulted at all, . aunt?” 

“ Kot at all. You know the doctors are all against hydropathy 
and mesmerism, and the magnetic telegraph, and everything that is 
new; so we thought it best not to consult him.” 

“ And my Aunt Sprague?” 

“ Yes, she was consulted after everything was settled, and when 
I knew her notions could not undo what had been already done. 
But she is a seaman’s *widow, as well as myself, and has a great 
notion of the virtue of sea air.” 

“ Then it would seem that Doctor Spike was the principal adviser 
in my case!” 

“ i own that he was. Rosy dear. Captain Spike w^as brought up 
by your uncle,, who has often tofd me what a thorough seaman he 
was. ‘ There’s Spike, now,’ he said to me one day, ‘ he can almost 
make his brig talk’— this very brig, loo, your uncle meant. Rosy, 
and, of course, one of the best vessels in the world to take hydrop- 
athy in.” 

“Yes, aunly,” returned Rose, playing with the pen, while her 
air proved how little her mind was in her words. “ Well, what 
shall 1 say next to my Aunt Sprague?” 

“Rose’s health is already becoming confirmed” resumed the 
widow, who thought it best to encourage her niece by as strong 
terms as she could employ, “and 1 shall extol hydropathy tathe 
skies, as long as 1 live. As soon as we reach our port of destina- 
tion, my dear sister Sprague, 1 shall write you a line to let you 
know it, by .the magnetic telegraph — ” 

“ But there is no magnetic telegraph on the sea, aunty,” inter- 
rupted Rose, looking up from the paper, with her clear, serene, blue 


JACK TIER. 47 

eyes, expressing even her surprise, at this touch of the relict’s igno- 
rance. 

“ Don’t tell me that. Rosy, child, when everybody says the sparks 
will fly round the whole earth, just as soon as they will fly from 
New York to Philadelphia.” 

” But they must have something to fly on, aunty; and the ocean 
will not sustain wires, or posts.” 

“ Well, there is no need of being so particular; if there is no tele- 
graph, the letter must come by mail. You can say telegraph, here, 
and when your aunt gets the letter, the post-mark will tell her how 
it came. It locks better to talk about telegraphic communications, 
child.” 

Rose resumed her pen, and wrote, at h^r aunt’s dictation, as fol- 
lows: “ By the magnetic telegraph, when 1 hope to be able to tell 
you that our dear Rose is well. As yet, we both enjoy the ocean 
exceedinsrly; but when we get off the Sound, into blue water, and 
have sent the pilot ashore, or discharged him 1 ought to say, which 
puts me in mind of telling you that a cannon was discharged at us 
only last night, and that the ball whistled so near me, that 1 heard 
it as plain as ever you heard Rose’s piano.” 

” Had 1 not better first tell m^Aunt Sprague what is to be done 
when the pilot is discharged?” 

“No; tell her about the cannon that was discharged, first, and 
about the ball that 1 heard. 1 had almost forgot that adventure, 
which was a very remarkable one, was it not, Biddy?” 

“Indeed, missus, and it wa’s! and Miss Rose might put in the let- 
ter how we both screamed at that cannon, and might have been 
heard as plainly, every bit of it, as the ball.” 

“ Say nothing on the subject, Rose, or we shall never hear the 
last of it. So, darling, you may conclude in your own way, for 1 
believe I have told your aunt all that comes to mind.” 

Rose did as desired, finishing the epistle in a very few words, for. 
Tightly enough, she had taken it into her head there was no pilot to 
be discharged, and consequently that the letter would never be sent. 
Her short but frequent conferences with Mulford were fast opening 
her eyes, not to say her heart, and she was beginning to see Captain 
Spike in his true character, which was that of a great scoundrel. 
It, is true, that the mate had not long judged his commander quite 
so harshly, but had rather seen his beautiful brig, and her rare 
qualities, in her owner and commander, than the man himself; but 
jealousy had quickened his observation of late, and Stephen Spike 
had lost ground sensibly with Hariy Mulford, within the last week. 
Two or three times before, the young man had thought of seeking 
another berth, on account of certain distrusts of Spike’s occupa- 
tions; but he was poor, and so long as he remained in the “ Swash ” 
Harry’s opportunities of meeting Rose were greatly increased. This 
circumstance, indeed, was the secret of his still being in the 
Molly,” as Spike usually called his craft; .the last voyage having 
excited suspicions that were rather of a delicate nature. Then the 
young man really loved the brig, which, if she could not be literally 
made to talk, could be made to do almost everything. A vessel, 
and a small vessel, too, is rather contracted as to space; but those 
who wish to converse can contrive to speak together often, even in 


48 


JACK TIER. 


such narrow limits. Such had been the fact with Rose Budd and 
the liandsome mate. Twenty times since they sailed, short as that 
lime was, had Mulford contrived to get so near to Rose, as to talk 
with her unheard by others. It is true, that he seldom ventured ta 
do this so long as the captain was in sight — but Spike was often be- 
low, and opportunities were constantly occurring. It was in the 
course of these frequent but brief conversations, that Harry had 
made certain dark hints touching the character of his commander, 
and the known recklessness of his proceedings. Rose had taken 
the alarm, and fully comprehending her aunt’s menial imbecility, 
her situation was already giving her great uneasiness. She had 
some undefined hopes from the revenue steamer; though, stramrely 
enough as it appeared to her, her youngest and most approved suitor 
betrayed a strong desire to escape from that craft, at the very mo- 
ment he was expressing his apprehensions on account of her pres- 
ence in the brig. This contradiction a 4 ’ose from, a certain e&prit de 
corps, which seldom fails, more or less, to identify the mariner with 
his ship. 

But the writing was finished, and the letter sealed with wax, 
Mrs. Budd being quite as particular in that ceremony as Lord Nel- 
son, when the females again repaired on deck. They found Spike 
and his mate sweeping the easte'rn part of the Sound with their 
glasses, with a view to look out for enemies; or, what to them, just 
then, was much the same thing, government craft. In this Occupa- 
tion, Rose was a little vexed to see that Mulford was almost as much 
interested as Spike himself, the love of his vessel seemingly over- 
coming his love for her, if not his love of the right; she knew of no 
reason, however, why the captain should dread any other vessel, 
and felt sufficiently provoked to question him a little on the subject, 
it it were only to let him see that the niece was not as completely 
his dupe as tlie aunt. She had not been on deck five minutes, 
therefore, during which time several expressions had escaped the 
two sailors touching their apprehensions of vessels seen in the dis- 
tance, ere she commenced her inquiries. 

“And why should we fear meeting with other vessels?” Rose 
plainly demanded — “here in Long Island Sound, and within tho 
power of the laws of the country?” 

“ Fear!” exclaimed Spike, a little startled, and a good deal sur- 
prised at this straightforward question — “ Fear, Miss Rose? You 
do not think we are afraid, though there are many reasons why we 
do not wish to be spoken by certain craft that are hovering about. 
In the first place, you know it is war-time — 1 suppose you know, 
Madam Budd, that America is at war with Mexico?” 

“ Certainly,” answered the widow, with dignity; “ and that is a 
sufficient reason. Rose, why one vessel should chase, and another 
should run. If you had heard your poor uncle relate, as 1 liave 
done, all his chasings and runnings away, in the war times, child, 
you would understand these things better. 'Why, I’ve heard your 
uncle say that, in some of his long voyages, he has run thousands 
and thousands of miles, with sails set on both sides, and all over his 
ship!” 

“ Yes. aunty, and bo have 1, but that was 'running before the- 
Ivind,’ as he used to call it.” 


JACK TIER. 59 

" I s’pose, hWever, Miss Rose,” put in Spike, who saw that the 
niece would soon aet the better of the aunt— 1 s’pose Miss Rose, 
that you’ll acknowledge that Ameiica is at war with Mexico?” 

“ 1 aui soiry to say that such is the fact, but I remember to have 
heard you say, yourself. Captain Spike, when my aunt was inducecT 
to undertake this voyage, that you did not consider there was the 
smallest danger from any Mexicans.” 

” Yes, you did. Captain Spike,” added the aunt— “ you did say 
there was no danger from Mexicarts, ” 

“ Nor is there a bit. Madam Budd, it Miss Rose and ybur honored 
self will only hear me. 'riiere is no danger, because the brig has the 
heels of anything Mexico can send to sea. She has sold her 
steamers, and as for anything else under her flag, 1 would not care 
a straw.” 

” The steamer from which we ran, last evening, and which actu- 
ally fired oft a cannon at us, was not Mexican, but American,” said 
Rose, with a pointed manner that put Spike to his trumps. 

“Oh, that steamer,” he stammered — ‘‘that was a race— only a 
race. Miss Rose, and 1 wouldn’t let her come near me, for the world. 
1 should never hear the last of it, in the insurance offices, ahd on 
’Change, did 1 let her overhaul us. You see. Miss Rose — you see. 
Madam Budd” — Spike ever found it most convenient to address 
his mystifying discourse to the aunt, in preference to addressing it 
to the niece — ” you see. Madam Budd, the master of that craft and 
1 are old cronies — sailed together when boys, and set great store by 
each other. We met only last evening, just a’ter 1 had left your 
own agreeable mansion. Madam Budd, and says he, ‘ Spike, when 
do you sail?’ ‘To-morrow’s flood, Jones,’ says I — his name is 
Jones — Peter Jones, and as good a fellow as ever lived. ‘ Do you 
go by the Hook, or by Hell- Gate — ’ ” 

” HurPGale, Captain Spike, it you please— or Whirl-Gate, which 
some people think is the true sound; but the other way of saying it 
is awful.” 

‘‘Well, the captain, my old master, always called it Hell-Gate, 
and 1 learned the trick from him — ” 

” 1 know he did, and so do all sailors: but genteel people, now- 
adays, say nothing but Hurl-Gate, or Whirl-Gate.” 

Rose smiled at this, as did Mulford; but neither said anything, 
the subject having once before been up between them. As for our- 
selves, we are stili so old-fashioned as to say, and write, Hell-Gate, 
and intend so fro do, in spite of all the Yankees that have yet passed 
through it, or who ever shall pass through it, and ihat is saying a 
great "deal. We do not like changing names to suit their uneasy 
spirits. 

‘ Call the place Hurl-Gate, and go on with your story,” said the 
widow, complacently. 

‘‘ Yes, Madam Budd— ‘ Do you go ?3y the Hook, or by Whirl- 
Gate?’ said Jones. ‘By Whirl-a-Gig-Gate,’ says 1. ‘Well,- 
says he, ‘ 1 shall go through the Gate myself, in tiie/course of the 
morning. We may meet somewhere to the eastward, and,'if we, do, 
I’ll bet you- a beaver,’ says he, ‘that 1 show you my stern.’ 

‘ ‘Agree J,’ says 1, and we shook hgnds upon it. That’s the whole 


50 JACK TIEK. . 

history of our giving the steamer the slip, last night, and of my not 
wishing to let her speak me.” 

“ But you went into a bay, and let her go past you,” said Rose, 
coolly enough as to manner, but with great point as to substance. 

Was not that a singular way of winning a race?” 

“It does seem so. Miss Rose, but it’s all plain enough, when un- 
derstood. I found that steam was too much lor sails, and 1 stood 
up into the bay to let them run past us, in hopes they would never < 
find out the trick. 1 care as little for a hat as any man, but 1 do 
care a good deal about having it reported on ’Change that the 
^ Molly ’ was beat, by even a steamer.” 

This ended the discourse for the moment. Clench again having 
something to say to his captain in private. 

“ How much of that explanation am I to believe, and how much 
disbelieve?” asked Rose the instant she was left alone with Harry. 

“ If it be all invention, it was a ready and ingenious story.” 

“ No part of it is true. He no more expected that the steamer 
would pass through Hell-Gate, than 1 expected iC myself. There 
was no bet, or race, therefore; but it w"hs our wish to avoid Uncle 
Sam’s cruiser, that was all.” 

“ And why should you wish any such thing?” 

“ On my honor, ] can give you no better reason, so far as I am 
concerned, than the fact that, wishing to keep clear of her, I do 
not like to be overhauled. Nor can 1 tell you why Spike is so much 
in earnest in holding the revenue vessel at arm’s length; I know he 
dislikes all such craft, as a matter of course, but 1 can see no par- 
ticular reason for iu just now. A more innocent cargo was never 
stuck into a vessel’s hold.” 

“Wiiatisit?” 

“ Flour; and no great matter of that. The brig is not half full, 
being just in beautiful ballast trim, as if ready for a race. I can see, 
no sufficient reason, beyond native antipathy, why Captain Spike 
should wish to avoid any craft, for it is humbug Ijis dread of a 
Mexican, and least of all, here, in Long Island Sound. All that 
story about Jones is a tub for whales.” 

“ Thank you for the allusion; my aunt and myself being the 
whales.” 

“You know I do mean— mean nothing. Rose, that is disre- 
spectful to either yourself or your aunt.” 

Rose looked up, and she looked pleased. Then she mused in 
silence, for some time, when she again spoke. 

“ Why have you remained another voyage with such a man, 
Harry?” she asked, earnestly. 

“ Because, as his first officer, 1 have had access to your house, 
when 1 could not have had it otherwise; and because 1 have appre- 
hended that he might persuade Mrs. Budd, as he had boasted to me - 
it was his intention to do, to make this voyage.” 

Rose now looked grateful; and deeply grateful did she feel, and 
had reason to feel. Harry had concealed no portion of his history 
from her. Like herself, he was a ship-master’s child, but one better 
educated and better connected than was customary for the class. 
His father had paid a good deal of attention to the youth’s early 
years, but had made a seaman of him, out of choice. The father 


JACK TIER. 


51 


had lost his all, however, with his life, in a shi|pwreck; and Harry 
was thrown upon his owti resources, at the early age of twenty. 
He had made one or two voyages as a second mate, when chance 
threw him in Spike’s way, who, pleased with some evidences of 
coolness and skill, that he had shown in a foreign port, on the oc- 
casion of another loss, took him as his first officer; in which situation 
he had remained ever since, partly from choice and partly from 
necessity. On the other hand. Rose had a fortune; by no means a 
large one, but several thousands in possession, from her own father, 
and as many more in reversion from her uncle. It was his money, 
taken in connection with the credulous imbecility of the aunt, that 
had awakened the stupidity, and excited the hopes of Spike. After 
a life of lawless adventure, one that had been checkered by every 
shade of luck, he found himself growing old, with his brig growing 
old with him, and little besides his vessel and the sort of half cargo 
that was in her hold. Want of means, indeed, w-as the reason that 
the flour-barrels were not more numerous. 

Rose heard Mulford’s explanation favorably, as indeed she heard 
most of that which came from him, but did not renew the discourse. 
Spike’s conference with the boatswain just then terminating. I'he 
captain now came aft, and began to speak of the performances of 
his vessel in a way to show that he took great pride in them. 

“We are traveling at the rate of ten knots. Madam Rudd,” he 
said exultingly, “and that will take us clear of the land, before 
night shuts iii ag’in. Montauk is a good place for an offing; 1 ask 
for no better. ” 

“ Shall we then have two offings, this voyage. Captain Spike?’* 
asked Rose, a little sarcastically. “ If we are in the otfing now, 
and are to be in the ofiQng when we reach Montauk, there must be 
two such places.” 

“ Rosy, dear, you. amaze me!” put in the aunt. , “ There is no 
offing until the pilot is discharged, and when he’s discharged there 
is nothing but offing. It’s all offing. On the Sound, is the first 
great change that befalls a vessel as she goes to sea; then comes the 
offing; next the pilot is discharged— then— then— what conies next. 
Captain Spike?” 

“ Then the vessel takes her departure— an old navigator like your- 
self, Madam Budd, ought not to forget the departure.” 

“ Quite true, sir. The departure is a very important portion of at 
seaman’s life. Often and often have 1 heard my poor dear Mr. 
Budd talk about his departures. His departures, and his offings, 
and his — ” 

“ JLand-falls,” said Spike, perceiving that the ship-master’s relict 
was a little at fault. 

“ Thank you, sir; the hint is quite welcome. His land-falls, 
also, were often in his mouth.” 

“ What is a land-fall, aunty?” inquired Rose. “It appears a 
strange term to be used by one who lives on the water.” 

“ Oh! there is no end to the curiosities of sailors! A ’ land-fall,’ 
my dear, means a shipwreck, of course. To fall on the land, and a 
very unpleasant fall it is, when a vessel should keep on the water. 
I’ve heard of dreadful land-falls in rny day, in which hundreds of 
souls have been swept into eternity, in an instant.” 


52 


> JACK TIEK. 


“Yes, yes, Mad^m Budd— there are such accidents, truly, and 
serious things be they to encounter,” answered Spike, hemming a 
little to clear his throat, as was much his -practice whenever the 
widow ran into any u’nusually extravagant blunder; ‘‘ yes, serious 
things to encounter. But tlie land fall that 1 mean is a diflterent 
sort of thing; being, as you well know, what we say when we come 
in sight of land, a'ler a v’y’ge; or, meaning the land we may happen 
first to see. T|ie departure is the beginning of our calculation wlien 
we lose sight of the last cape or headland, and the land-fall closes 
it, by letting us know where we are at the other end of our journey, 
as you probably remember.” 

“ Is there not such a thing as clearing out in navigation?” asked 
Kose, quickly, willing to cover a little contusion lhat was manifest 
in her aunt’s manner. 

“Not exactly in navigation. Miss Rose; but clearing out, with 
honest folk* ought to come first, and navigation a’terward. Clear- 
ing out means going through the custom-house, accordin’ to law.” 

“ And the ‘ Molly Swash ’ has cleared out, 1 hope?” 

“ Sartain — a more lawful clearance was nearer given in Wall 
Street; it’s for Key West, and a market. 1 did think of making it 
Havana, and a market, but port-charges are lightest at Key -West. 

“ Then Key West is the place to which we are oound?” 

“ It ought to be, agreeable to papers; though vessels sometimes 
miss the ports for which they clear.” 

Rose put no more questions; and her aunt being conscious that 
she had not appeared to advantage in the affair of the “ land-fall,” 
was also disposed to be silent. Spike and Mulford had their atten- 
tion drawn to the vessel, and the conversation dropped. 

The reader can readily suppose that the “ Molly Swash ” had not 
been standing still all this time. So far from tliis, she was running 
“down Sound,” with Ihe wind on her quarter, or at south-west, 
making great headway, as she was close under the south shore, or 
on the island side of the water she was in. The vessel had no other 
motion than that of her speed, and the females escaped everything 
like sea-sickness, for the time being. This enabled them to attend 
to making certain arrangements necessary to their couiforts below, 
previously to getting into rough water. In acquitting herself of 
this task. Rose "received much useful advice from Josh, though his 
new assistant. Jack Tier, turned out to be a prize indeed, in the 
cabins. The first was only a steward ; but the last proved himself 
not onl}” a handy person of his calling, but one full of resources— a 
genius, in his way. Josh soon became so sensible of his own in- 
fer ioiity, in contributing to the comforts of females, that he 3 delded 
the entire management of the “ ladies’ cabin,” as a little place that 
might have been ten feet equare, was called, to his uncouth-looking, 
but really expert deputy. Jack waddled about below as if born and 
brought up in such a place, and seemed every way fitted for his 
office. In height, and in build generally there was a surprising 
conformity betw’een the widow and the steward’s deputy, a circum- 
stance which might induce one to tliink they must often have been in 
each other’s way, in a space so small; though, in point of fact. Jack 
never ran foul of any one. He seemed to avoid this inconvenience 
by a species of nautical instinct. 


JACK TIER. 


53 


Toward the turn of the -day, Rose had everything arranged, and 
was surprised to find how much room she had made for her aunt 
and herself, by means of Jack’s hints, and how much more com- 
fortable it was possible to be, in that small cabin, than she had at 
first supposed. I 

After dinner. Spike took his siesta. He slept in a little state-room 
that stood on the starboard side of the quarter-deck, quite aft; as 
Mulford did in one on the larboard. These two state-rooms were 
fixtures; but a light deck overheads which connected them, shipped 
and unshipped, forming a shelter for the man at the wheel, when in 
its place, as well as for the officer of the watch, should he see fit to 
use it, in bad weather. This sort of cuddy, Spike termed his 
*■ coach-house.” 

The captain had no sooner gone into his state-room, and closed its 
window, movements that were understood by Mulford, than the 
latter took occasion to intimate to Rose, b}’’ means of Jnck^Tier, the 
state of things on deck, when the young man was favored with the " 
lady’s company. 

” He has turned in for his afternoon’s nap, and will sleep for just 
one hour, blow high or blow low,” said the mate, placing himself 
at Rose’s side on the truck, which formed the usual seat for whose 
who could presume to lake the liberty of sitting down on the quarter- 
deck. It’s a habit with him, and we can count on it with per- 
fect security. ” 

‘‘ His doing so, now^is a sign that he has no immediate fears of 
the revenue steamer?” 

” The coast is quite clear of her. We have taken good looks at 
every smoke, but can see nothing that appears like our late com- 
panion. She has doubtless gone to the eastward, on duty, and 
merely chased us on her road.” 

“ But why should she chase us at all?” 

“ Because we ran. Let a dog run, or a man ruri, or a cat. run, 
ten to one but something starts in chase. It is human nature, 1 be- 
lieve, to give chase; though 1 will admit there was something sus- 
picious about that steamer’s movements — her anchoring off the fpit, 
for instance. But let her go for the present: are you getting things 
right, and to your mind, below decks?” 

” Very much so. The cabin is small, and the two state-rooms the 
merest drawers that ever were used, but by putting everything in 
its place, we have made sufficient room, and no doubt shall be com- 
fortable.” 

“lam sorry you did not call on me for assistance. The mate" 
has a prescriptive riglit to help stow away.” 

“We made out without your services,” returned Rose, slightly 
blushing.' “Jack Tier, as he is called, Josh’s assisant, is a very 
useful person, and has been our adviser and manager. I want no 
belter dor such services.” 

“ He is a queer fellow, all round. Take him altogether, I hardly 
ever saw so droll a bjeing! As thick as he’s long, with a waddle like 
a duck, a voice that is cracked, hair like bristles, and knee high; the 
man might make a fortune as a show. Tom Thumb is scarcely a 
greater curiosity.” 

“ He is singular in build as you call it,” returned Rose, laugh- 


JACK TIER. 


54 

ing, “ but, 1 can assure you that he is a most excellent fellow in his 
way— worth a dozen ot josh. Do you know, Harry, that 1 suspect 
he has strong feelings toward Captain Spike; though whether of 
like or dislike, friendship or enmity, 1 am at a loss to say.” 

“ And why do you think that he has any feeling at all? 1 have 
heard Spike say he left the fellow ashore somewhere down on the 
Spanish Main, or in the Islands, quite twenty years since; but a 
sailor would scarcely carry a grudge so long a time for such a thing 
as that.” 

“ 1 do not know — but feeling there is, and much of it, too; 
though, whether hostile or friendly, 1 will not undertake to say.” 

“ I’ll look to the chap, now you tell me this, it is a little odd, 
the manner in which he got on board us, taken in connection with 
the company he was in, and a discovery may be made. Here he is, 
'hov^ever; and, as 1 keep the keys of the magazine, he can do us no 
great harm, unless he scuttles the brig.” 

“Magazine! Is there such a thing here?” \ 

“ To be sure there is, and ammunition enough in it to keep eight 
carronades in lively conversation tor a couple of hours.” 

“ A carronade is what you call a gun, is it not?” 

“ A piece of a one— being somewhat short, like your friend. Jack 
Tier,- who is shaped a good deal like a carronade.” 

Rose’ smiled— nay, half laughed, for Harry’s pleasantries almost 
took the character ot wit in her eyes, but she did not the less re- 
sume her inquiries. 

“ Guns! And where are they, if they be on this vessel?” 

- “ Do not use such a lubberly expression, my dear Rose, it you 
respect your father’s profession. On a vessel, is a new-fangled 
Americanism, that is neither fish, flesh, nor red-herring, as we sail- 
ors say— neither English nor Greek.” 

' “ NYhat should 1 say, then? My wish is not to parade sea-talk, 
but to use it correctly when 1 use it at all.” 

“ The expression is hardly ‘ sea-talk,’ as you call it, but every-day 
English — that is, when rightly used. On a vessel is no more En- 
glish than it is nautical— no sailor ever used such an expression.” 

“ Tell me what 1 ought to say, and you will find me a willing, if 
not an apt scholar. 1 am certain of having often read it in the news- 
papers, and that quite lately.” 

“I’ll answer for that, and it's another proof of its being wrong. 
In a vessel is as correct as in a coach, and on a vessel, as wrong as 
can be; but you can say on hoard a vessel, though not ‘ on the boards 
ot a vessel,’ as Mrs. Budd has it.” 

“ Mr. Mulford!” 

“ 1 beg a thousand pardons. Rose, and will offend no more — 
though she does make some very queer mistakes.” 

“.My aunt thinks it an honor to my uncle’s memory, to be able to 
use the language of his professional life; and if she does sometimes 
make mistakes that are absurd, it is with motives so respectable that 
no sailor should deride them.” 

“•lam rebuked forever. Mrs. Budd may call the anchor a silver 
spoon, hereafter, without my even smiling. But if the aunt has this 
kind remembrance of a seaman’s life, why cannot the niece think 
equally well of it?” . ' 


JACK TIER. 


55 


Perhaps she does,” returned Rose, smiling again— “ seeing all 
its attractions -through .the claims of Captain Spike.” 

” 1 think half the danger from him gone, now that you seem so 
much on your guard. What an odious piece of deception, to per- 
suade Mrs. Budd that you were fast falling into a decline!” 

*‘ One so odious, that 1 shall surely quit the brig at the first port 
we enter, or even in the first suitable vessel that we niay speak.” 

‘‘ And Mrs. Budd — could you persuade her to such a course?” 

“You scarce know us, Harry Mulford. My aunt commands, 
where there is no serious duty to perform; but we change places 
when there is. 1 can persuade her to anything that is right, in ten 
minutes.” 

‘‘You might persuade a world!” cried Harry, with strong ad- 
miration expressed in his countenance; after which he began to con- 
verse with Rose, on a subject so interesting to themselves, that we 
do not think it prudent to relate any more of the discourse, forget- 
ting all about the guns. 

About four o’clock, of a fine summer’s afternoon, the “ ^wash ” 
went through the Race, on the last of the ebb, and with a stagger- 
ing southwest wind. Her movement by the land, just at that point, 
could not have been less than at the rate of fifteen miles in the hour. 
Spike was in high spirits, for his brig had got on famously that day, 
and there was nothing in sight to the eastward. He made no doubt, 
as he had told his mate, that the steamer had gone into the Vineyard 
Sound, and that she was bound over the shoals. 

“They want to make political capital out of her,” he added, 
using one of the slang phrases that the ” business habits ” of the 
American people are so rapidly incorporating with the common 
language of the country. “ They want to make political capital out 
of h^er, Harry, and must show her off to the Boston folk, who are 
full of notions. Well, let them turn her to as much account in that 
way as they please, so long as they keep her clear of the ‘ Molly. ’ 
Your sarvant, Madam Budd ” — addressing the widow, who just at 
that moment came on deck — ‘‘ a fine a’ternoon, and likely to be a 
clear night to run off the coast in. ” 

* ” Clear nights are desirable, and most of all at sea. Captain 

Spike,” returned the relict, in her best, complacent manner, 
” whether it be to run ofo. coast, or to run on a coast. In either 
case, a clear night or a bright moon must be useful.” 

Captain Spike rolled his tobacco over in his mouth, and cast a 
furtive glance at the mate, but he did not presume to hazard any 
furtbeY manifestations of his disposition to laugh. 

Yes, Madam Budd,” he answered, “ it is quite as you say; and 
1 am only surprised where you have picked up so much of what 1 
ca? 



recollect that this is not m;^ 


first voyage, having made one before, and that I passed a happy, 
happy thirty years, in the society of my poor dear husband, Rose’s 
uncle. One must have been dull, indeed, not to have picked up, 
from such a companion, much of a calling that was so dear to him,' 
and the particulars of which were so very dear to him. He actually 
gave me lessons in the ‘ sea-dialect,’ as he called it, which probably 
is the true reason 1 ain so accurate and general in my acquisitions.” 


56 


JACK. TIER. 


“ Yes, Madam Biidd— yes— hem — yoa are-^es, you are wonder- 
ful in that way. We shall soon get an offins: now, Madam Budd — 
yes, soon get an offing, now.” 

” And take in our departure, Captain Spike,” added the widow, 
with a very intelligent smile. 

” Yes, take our departure. Monlauk is yopder, just coming in 
sight; only some three hours’ run trom this spot. When we get 
tl^re, the open ocean will lie before us; and give me the open sea, 
and I’ll not call the king my uncle.” 

” Was he your uncle, Captain Spike?” 

‘‘ Only in a philanthropic way. Madam Budd. Yes, let us get a 
good offing, and a rapping to’gallant breeze, and -Jl do not think 1 
should care much for of Uncle Sam’s new-fashioned revenue 
craft, one on each side of me.” 

” How lielightful do 1 find such conversation, Bose! It’s as much 
like your poor dear uncled, as one pea is like another. ‘ Yes,’ he 
used to say, too, ‘ let me only have ope on each side of me, and a 
wrapper round the topgallant sail to hold the breeze, and I’d not 
call the king my uncle.’ Now 1 think of it, he used to talk about 
the king as his uncle, loo.” 

“It was all talk, aunty; he had no uncle, and, what is more, he 
had no king. ” 

• “ That’s quite true, Miss Rose,” rejoined Spike, attempting a 

bow, which ended in a sort of jerk; “ it is not very becoming in us 
republicans to be talking of kings, but a habit is a habit. Our fore- 
fathers had kings, and we drop into their ways without thinking of 
what we are doing. Fore-topgallant yard, there!” 

“Sir.” 

“ Keep a bright lookout, ahead. Let me know the instant you 
make anything in the neighborhood of Montauk.” 

“Ay, ay, sir.” 

“ As 1 was saying. Madam Budd, we seamen drop into our fore- 
fathers’ ways. Now, when 1 was a youngster, 1 remember, one 
day, that we fell in with a ketch— you know, Miss Rose, what a 
ketch is, I suppose?” 

“ 1 have not the least notion of it, sir.” 

“ Rosy, you amaze me!’* exclaimed the aunt — “ and you a ship- 
master’s niece, and a shipmaster’s daughter! A catch is a trick that 
sailors have when they quiz landsmen.” 

“ Yes, Madam Budd, yes; we have them sort of catches, too; but 
1 now mean the vessel was a peculiar rig, which we call a ketch, you 
know. ’ ’ 

“ Is it the full- jigger, or the half-jigger sort, that you mean?” 

Spike could hardly stand this, and he had to hail the topgallant 
yard again, in order to keep the command of his muscles, for he 
saw by the pretty frown that was gathering on the brow of Rose, 
that she was regarding the matter a little seriously. Luckily, the 
answer of the man on the javd diverted the mind of the widow from 
the subject, and prevented the necessity of any repl3^ 

“ There’s a light, of course, sir, on Montauk, is there not, Cap- 
tain Spike?” demanded the seaman who was aloft. 

“ To-be sure there is— every headland,, hereabouts, has its light; 
and some have two.” 


JACK TIER. 57 

“ Ay, ay, sir; it’s that which puzzles me; 1 think 1 see one light- 
house, and I’m not certain hut 1 see two.” 

“ If tliere is anything like a second, it must be a sail. Montauk 
has but one liffht.” f 

Multord sprung into the fore-rigging, and in a minute was- on the 
yard. He soon came down, and reported the lighthouse in sight, 
with the atternoon’s sun shinihg on it, but no sail near. 

” My poor, dear Mr. Budd used to tell a story of his being cast 
uway on a liiiht house, in the East Indies,” put in the relict as soon 
as the mate had ended his report, ‘‘ which always attected me. It 
seems there were three ships of them together, in an awful tempest 
directly off the land—” 

‘‘ That was comfoi table, anyhow,” cried Spike; “if it must 
blow hard, let it come off the land, say 1.” 

” Yes, sir, it was directly off the land, as my poor husband always 
said, which made it so much the worse, you must know. Rosy; 
though Captain Spike’s gallant spirit would rather encounter danger 
than not. It blew what they call a Hyson, in the Chinese seas — ” 

” A what, aunty? Hyson is the name of a tea, you kjiow.” 

“ A Hyson, I’m pretty sure it was; and 1 suppose the wind is 
named after the tia, or the tea after the wind.” 

‘‘ The ladies do get in a gale, sometimes, over their tea,” said 
Spike, gallantly; ” but 1 rather think Madam Budd must mean a 
TyphoPn.” 

‘‘ That’s it— a Typhoon, or a Hyson — there is not much difference 
between them, you see. Well, it blew a Typhoon, and they are al- 
ways mortal to somebody! This my poor Mr. Budd well knew, and 
he had set his chronometer for that Typhoon—” 

” Excuse me, aunty, it was the barometer that he was watching — 
the chronometer was his watcn.”/ 

“ So it was — his watch on deck uas his chronometer, I declare. I 
am forgetting a part of my education. Do you know the use of a 
chronometer, now. Rose? You have seen your uncle’s often, but 
do you know how he used it?” 

‘‘ Not in the least, aunty. My uncle often tried to explain it; 
but 1 never could understand him.” 

” it must have been, then, because Captain Budd did not trv to 
make himself comprehended,” said Mulford, ” for 1 feel certain 
nothing would be easier than to make 2 /ow understand the use of the 
chronometer.” 

” I should like to learn it from you, Mr. Mulford,” answered the 
charming girl, with an emphasis so slight on the ” you ” that no one 
observed it but the mate, but which was clear enough to him, and 
caused every nerve to thrill, 

‘* 1 can attempt it,” answ^ered the young man, ” it it be agreeable 
to Mrs. Budd, who would probably like to hear it herself.” 

‘‘Certainly, Mr. Mulford; ihough I fancy you can say little on 
such a subject that 1 have not often heard already, froni my poor 
dear Mr. Budd.” 

This was not very encouraging truly; but Rose continuing to . 
look interested, the rhate proceeded. 

‘‘ The use of the chronometer is to ascertain the longitude,”- said 
Harry, ‘‘ and- the manner of doing it is simply this. A cbronom- 


JACK TIER. 


58 

eter is nothing more nor less than a watch, made with more care 
than UEual, so as to keep the most accurate time. They are of all 
sizes, from that of a clock, down to this which 1 wear in my fob, 
and which is a watch in size and appearance. Now, 4he nautical 
almanacs are all calculated to some particular ireridian— ” 

“ Yes,” interrupted the relict, ‘‘ Mr. JBudd had a great deal to 
say about meridians.” 

“That of London, or Green Jvich, being the meridian used by 
those who use the English almanacs, and those of Paris or St. 
Petersburg, by the French and Russians. Each of these places has 
an observatory, and chronometers are kept carefully regulated, the 
year around. Every chronometer is set by the regulator of the 
particular observatory or place to which the almanac used is calcu- 
lated.” 

“ How wonderfully like my poor dear Mr. Budd, all this is, Rosyf 
Meridians, and calculated, and almaua.c8l 1 could almost think 1 
heard your uncle entertaining me wjtii one of his nautical discus- 
sions, 1 declare!” 

“ Now the sun rises earlier in places east, than in places west of 

us.” 

“It rises earlier in the summer, but later in the winter, every-^ 
where, Mr. Mulford.” 

“ "Ves, my dear madam; but the sun rises earlier every day, in 
London, than it does in New York.” 

“That is impossible,” said the widow dogmatically: “why 
should not the sun rise at the same time in England and America?” 

“ Because England is .east of America, aunty. The sun does not 
move, you know, but only appears to us to move, because the earth 
turns round from west to east, wEich causes those who are furthest 
east to see i.t first. That is what Mr Mulford means.” 

“Rose has explained it perfectly well,” continued the mate. 
“ Now the earth is divided into 360 degrees, and the day is divided 
into 24 hours. If 360 he divided by 24, the quotient w'ill be 15. 
It follows that, for each fifteen degrees of longitude, there is a 
difference of just one hour in the rising of the sun all over the 
earth, where it rises at all. New Y^’ork is five time 15 degrees w-est 
of Greenwich, and the sun consequently rises five hours later in 
New Y'ork than at London.” 

“ There must be a mistake in this. Rosy,” said the relict, in a 
tone ol desperate resignation, in which the desire to break out in 
dissent was struggling oddly enough with an assumed dignity of 
deportment. “I’ve always heard that the people of London are 
some of the latest in the world. Then, I’ve been ki London, and 
know that the sun rises in New York, in December, a good deal 
earlier than it does in London, by the clock — yes, by the clock.” 

“ True enough, by the clock, Mrs. Budd, lor London is more 
than ten degrees north of New YErk, and tbe further north you 
go, the later the sun rises in winter and the earlier in summer.” 

Tlie relict merely shrugged her shoulders, as fnuch as to say that 
she knew no such thing; but Rose, who had been w^ell taught, 
raised her serene eyes to her aunt's face, and mildly said — 

“ All true, aunty, and that is owing to the fact that the earth is 
smaller at each end than in the middle.” 


JACK TIER, 


59 


“Fiddle-faddle witli your.middles and ends, Rose— I’ve, been in 
London, dear, and know that the sun rises later there than in 
New Yoik» in the month of Alecember, and that 1 know by the 
clock, 1 tell you.” 

“The reason of which is,” resumed Mulford, “because the 
clocks of each place keep the time of that place. Now, it is 
different with the chronometers; they are set in the observatory of 
Greenwich, and keep the time of Greenwich. This watch chro- 
nometer was set there, only six months since; and this time, 
as yon see, is near nine o’clock, when in truth it is only about four 
o’clock here, where we are.” 

“ 1 wonder you keep such a watch, Mr. ivtulford!” 

“ 1 keep it,” returned the mate, smiling, “ because 1 know it to 
keep good time. It has the Greenwich time; and as your watch 
has the New York time, by comparing them together, it is quite 
■easy to find the longitude of New York.” 

“ Do you, then, keep watches to compare with your chronome- 
ters?” asked Rose, with interest. 

“ Certainly not; as that would require a watch for every sep- 
arate part of the ocean, and then we should only set known longi- 
tudes. It would be impracticable, and load a ship with nothing 
but watches, "What we do is this: We set our chronometers at 
Greenwich, and thus keep the Greenwich true time wherever we 
go. The greatest attention is paid to the chronometers, to see that 
they receive no injuries; and usually there are two, and often 
more of them, to compare one with another, in order to see that 
they go well. When in the middle of the ocean, for instance, we 
find the true time of the day at that spot, by ascertaining the height 
of the sun. This we do by means of our quadrants, or sextants; 
for, as the sun is always in the zenith at twelve o’clock, nothing is 
easier than to do this, when the sun can be seen, and an arc of the 
heavens measured. At the instant the height of the sun is ascer- 
tained by one observer, he calls to another, who notes the time on 
the chronometer. The difference in these two times, or that ot'the 
chronometer and that of the sun, gives the distance in degrees and 
minutes, between the longitude of Greenwich and that of that place 
on the ocean where the observer is; and that gives him his longi- 
tude. If the difference is three hours and twent}’’ minutes in time, 
the distance from Greetiwich is fifty degrees of longitude, because 
the sun rises three hours and twenty minutes sooner in London, 
than in the fiftieth degree of west longitude.” 

“ A watch is a watch. Rosy,” put in the aunt, doggedly, “ and 
time is time. When it’s four o’clock at our house, it’s four o’block 
at your Aunt Sprague’s, and it’s so all over the rvorld. The world 
may turn round— I’ll not deny it, for your uncle often said as 
much as that, but it can not turn in the way Mr. Mulford says, or 
we should tall off it, at night, when it was bottom upward. No, 
sir, no; you’ve started wrong. M}'- poor dear late Mr. Budd 
always admitted that the world turned round, as the books say; 
but when 1 suggested to him the difficulty, of keeping things in 
their places, with the earth upside down, he acknowledged candidly 
— for he was all candor, 1 must say that for him— and owned that 
he had made a discovery by means of his barometer, which showed 


60 


JACK TIEli, 

that the world aid not turn round in the way you describe, or hy 
rolling over, but by whirling about, as one turns in a dance. You 
must remember your uncle’s telling me this. Rose?” 

J^ose did remember her uncle’s telling her aunt this, as well as a 
g^eat many other similar prodigies. Captain Budd had married his 
silly wife on account of her pretty face, and when the novelty of 
that was over, he often amused himself by inventing all sorts of 
absurdities, to amuse both her and himself. Among other things. 
Rose well remembered his quieting her aunt’s scruples about fall- 
ing oS: the earth, by laying down the theory that the world did not 
“roll over,” but “whirl round.” But Rose did not answer the 
question, 

“ Objects are kept in their places on the earth by means of attrac- 
tion,” Mulford ventured to say, with a- great deal oi humility of 
manner, “ 1 believe it is thought there is no up or down, except 
as we go from or toward the earth; and that would make the po- 
sition of the last a matter of indifierence, as respects objects keeping 
on it.” 

“ Attractions are great advantages, 1 will own, sir, especially to 
our sex. 1 think it will be acknowledged there has been no want 
of them in our family, any more than there has been of sense and 
information. Sense and information we pride ourselves on; attrac- 
tions being gifts from God, we try to think less- of them. But all 
the attractions in the world could not keep Rosy, here, from fall- 
ing off the earth, did it ever come bottom upward. And, mercy 
on me, where would she fall to!” 

Mulford saw the argument was useless, and he confined his re- 
marks, during the rest of the conversation, to shownig Rose the 
manner in which the longitude of a place might be ascertained, 
with the aid of the chronometer, and by means of observations to 
get the true time of day, at the particular place itself. Rose was 
so quick-witted, and already so well instructed, as easily to com- 
prehend the principles; the details being matters of no great moment 
to one of her sex and habits. But Mrs. Budd remained antagonistic 
to the liist. She obstinately maintained that twelve o’clock was 
twelve o’clock; or, if there was any difference, “London hours 
were^ notoriously later than those of New Y’ork.” 

Against such assertions arguments were obviously useless, and 
Mulford, perceiving that Rose began to fidget, had sufficient tact 
to change the conversation altogether. 

And "still the “Molly Swash” kept in swift motion. Mon- 
lauk was by this time abeam, and the little brigantine began to 
rise and fall, on tne long swells of the Atlantic, which now opened 
before her, in one vast sheet of green and rolling waters. On her 
right lay the termination of Long Island; a low, rocky cape, with 
its light, a few fields in tillage for the uses of those who tended it. 
It was the “ land’s end ” of Kew Y’ork, while the island that was 
heaving up out of the sea, at a distance of about twenty miles to 
the eastward, was the property of Rhode Island, being called Blok 
Island. Between the two, the “ Swash ” shaped her course for 
the ocean. 

Spike had betrayed aneasiness, as his brig came up with Mon- 
tauk; but the coast seemed clear, with not even a distant sail in 


JACK TIER. 61 

sight, and he came aft, rubbing his hands with delight, speaking 
cheer fully. 

‘‘ All right, Mr, Mulford,'’ he cried — “everything ship-shape 
and brister-fashion— not everra smack fishing hereaway, which' js 
a liltle remarkable. B a!— what are you staring at, over the quaw 
ter, tliere?” 

“ Look here, sir, directly in the wake of the setting sun, which 
we are now opening from the land— is not that a sail?” 

“Sail! Impossible,- sir. "What should a sail be doing in there, 
so near Montauk— no man evfer saw a sail there is his life. It’s a 
spot in the sun. Madam Budd, that my mate has got a glimpse at', 
and, sailor-like, he mistakes it for a sail! Ha — ha-r-ha— yes, Harry, 
it’s a spot on the sun.” 

“It is a spot on the sun, as you say, but it’s a spot made by a 
vessel; and there is a boat pulling toward her, might and main — ■ 
going from the light, as it carrying news.” 

It was no longer possible for Spike’s hopes to deceive him. There 
was a vessel, sure enough; though, when first seen, it was so di- 
rectly in a line with the fiery orb of the setting sun, as to escape 
common observation. As the brig went foaming on tow^ard the 
ocean, however, the black speck was soon brought out of the range 
of the orb of day, and Spike’s glass was instantly leveled at it, 

“Just as one might expect, Mr. Mulford,” cried the captain, 
lowering his glass, and looking aloft to see what could be done to 
help his craft along, “a bloody revenue cutter, as I’m a wicked 
sinner! There she lies, sir, within musket-shot of the shore, hid be- 
hind the point, as it might be in waiting tor us, with her head to 
the south w^ard, her helm hard down, topsail aback, and foresail 
brailed; as wicked looking a thing as Free Trade and Sailors’ 
Rights ever ran from. My life on it, sir, she's been put in that 
precise spot, in waiting for the “ Molly ” to arrive. You see, as we 
stand on, it places her as handsomely to wdndward of us, as the 
heart of man could desire.” 

“ It is a revenue cutler, sir; now she’s out of the sun’s wake, that 
is plain enough. And that is her boat which, has been sent to the 
light to keep a lookout for us. Well, sir, she’s to windward; but 
we have everything set for our course, and as we are fairly abeam, 
she must be a great traveler to overhaul us,” 

“1 thought these bloody cutters were all down in the Gulf,’” 
growled the captain, casting his eye aloft again to see tiiat eveiy- 
thiug drew. “ I’m sure the newspapers have mentioned as many as 
twenty that are down there, and here is one, lying behind Montauk 
like a snake in the grass!” 

“ At any rate, by the time he gets his boat up we shall get the 
start of him— ay, there he fills and falls off, to go and meet her. 
He’ll soon be after us. Captain Spike, at racing speed.” 

Everything occurred as those two mariners had foreseen. The 
revenue cutter, one of the usual tore-topsail schooners that are em- 
ployed in that service, up and down the coast, had no sooner hoisted 
up her boat, than she made sail, a little off the wind, on a line to 
close with the “ Swash.” As for the brig, she had hauled up to ao' 
easy bowline, as she came round Montauk, and was now standing 
off south-south-east, still having tne wind at south-west. The 


JACK TIER. 


62 

Weatherly position of , the cutter enabled- her to steer ra^er more 
than one point freer. At tlie commencement of this chase, the ves- 
sels were about a mile and a halt apart, a distance too great to enable 
tlie cutter to render the light guns she carried available, and it was 
qbvious from the first, that everything depended on speed. And 
speed it was truly; both vessels fairly flyinL^ the “ Molly SWash ” 
having at last met with something very like her match. Half an 
hour satisfied both ISpike and Mulford that, by giving the cutter the 
advantage ot one point in a freer wind, she would certainly get 
alongside ot them, and the alternative was therefore to. keep off. 

“ A starn chase is a long chase, all the world over,” cried Spike 
— “ edge away, sir; edge away, sir, and bring the cutter well on our 
quarter.” 

This order was obeyed; bat, to the surprise of those in the 

Swash,” the cutter did not exactly follow, though she kept off a 
nttle more. Her object seemed to be to maintain her weatherly posi- 
tion, and in this manner the two vessels ran on for an hour longer, 
until the ” Swash ” had made most ot the distance between Montauk 
and Blok Island. Objects were even becoming dimly visible on the 
last, and a light on the point was just becoming visible, a lone star 
above a waste of desert, the sun having been down now fully a 
quarter of an hour, and twilight beginning to draw the curtain of 
night over the waters. 

” A craft under Blok,” shouted the lookout, that was siill kept 
aloft as a necessary precaution. 

‘‘ What sort of a craft?” demanded Spike, fiercely; for the very 
mention of a sail, at that moment, aroused all his ire. ” Aren’t you 
making a frigate out ot an apple-orchard?” 

” It’s the steamer, sir. 1 can now see her smoke. She’s just 
clearing the land, on the south side of the island, and seems to be 
coming round to meet us.” 

A long, low, eloquent whistle from the captain succeeded |^his 
announcement. The man aloft was right. It the steamer, sure 
enough; and she had been lying hid behind Blok Island, exactly as 
her consort had been placed behind Montauk, in waiting for their 
chase to arrive. The result was, to put the “ Molly Swash ” in 
exceeding jeopardy, and the reason why the cutter kept so well to 
•Windward was fully explained. To pass out to sea betw^een these 
two craft was hopeless. There remained but a single alternative 
from capture by one or by the other, and that Spike adopted instant- 
ly. He kept his brig dead away, setting studding-sails on both 
sides. This change of course brought the cutter nearly aft, or 
somew^hat on the other quarter, and laid the brig’s lu'ad in a direc- 
tion t’o carry her close to the northern coast of the island. But the 
principal advantage was gained over the steamer, which could not 
'keep off, without first standing a mile or two, or even more, to the 
westward, in order to clear the land. This was so mticli clear gain 
to the ‘‘Swash,” which was running off at racing speed, on a 
north-east course, while her most dangerous enemy was still lead- 
ing to the westw'ard. As for the cutter, she kept away; but it was 
soon apparent that the brig had the heels of her, dead before the 
wind. 

Darkness now began to close around the three vessels; the brig 


t/ACK TIER. 


63 

and the schooner soon becoming visible to each other principally by 
means of their night-glas.ses, tb9ugh the steamer’s position could be 
easily distinguished by means ot her flaming chimney. This latter 
vessel stood to the westward tor a quarter of an hour, when her 
commander appeared to become suddenly conscious of the grouml 
he was losing, and he wore short round, and went oft before the 
wind, under steam and canvas, intending to meet the chase off the 
northern side of the island. The very person who had hailed the 
“ Swash,” as she was leaving the wharf, who had passed her in 
Hell-Gale, with Jack Tier in his boat, and who had joined her off 
Throgmorton’s, was now on her deck, urging her commander by 
every consideration not to let the brig escape. It was at his sugges- 
tion that the course was changed. Nervous, and eager to seize the 
brig, he prevailed on the commander of the steamer to alter his 
course. Had he done no more than this, all might have been well; 
but so exaggerated were his notions of the ” Swash’s ” sailing, that, 
instead of suffering the steamer to keep close along the eastern side 
of the island, he persuaded her commander of the necessity of 
standing off a long distance to the northward and eastw’ard, with a 
view to get ahead of the chase. This w'as not bad advice, were 
there any certainty that Spike would stand on, of which, however, 
he had no intention. 

The night set m dark and cloudy; and the instant that Spike saw, 
by means of the flaming chimney, that the steamer had wore, and 
was going to the eastward of Blok, his plan was laid. Calling to 
Mulford, he communicated it to him, and was glad to find that his 
intelligent mate was of his own way of thinking. The necessary 
orders were given, accordingly, and everything was got ready for 
its execution. 

In the meantime, the two revenue craft were much in earnest. 
The schooner was one ot the fastest in the service, and had beeh 
placed under Montauk, as described, in the confident expectation of 
her being able to compete with even the ” Molly Swash ” success- 
fully, more especially if brought upon a bowline. Her commander 
watched the recedirig form of the brig with the closest attention; 
until it was entirely swallowed up in the darkness, under the land, 
toward which he then sheered himself in order to prevent the 
” Swash ” from hauling up, and turnhig to windward, close iu 
under the shadow of the island. Against this maneuver, however, 
the cutter had now taken an effectual precaution, and her people 
were satisfied that escape in that way was impossible. 

On the other hand, the steamer was doing very well. Diiven by 
the» breeze, and propelled by her wheels, away she went, edging fur- 
ther and further from the island, as the person from the custom- 
house succeeded, as it might be. inch by inch, in persuading the 
captain of the necessity of his so doing. At length a sail was dimly 
seen ahead, and then no doubt was entertained that the brig had got 
to the northward and eastward of them. Half an hour brought the 
steamer alongside of this sail, which turned out to be a brig that 
had come over the shoals, and was beating into the ocean, on her 
way to one of the Southern ports'. Her captain said there had noth- 
ing passed to the eastward. 

Round went the steamer, and in went all her canvas. Ten min- 


64 


JACK TIEK. 


utes later, the lookout saw a sail to the westward, standing before 
the wind. Odd as it might seem, the steamer’s people now fancied 
they were sure of the “ Swash.” There she was, coming directly 
for them, with squared yards! The distance was short, or a vessel 
could not have been seen by that light, and the two craft were soon 
near each other, A gun was actually cleared on board the steamer, 
ere it was ascertained that the stranger was the schooner! It was 
now midnight, and nothing was in sight but the coasting brig. Re- 
luctantly, the revenue people gave the matter up; the “Molly 
Swash ” having again eluded them, though by means unknown. 


CHAPTER IV. 

Leander dived for love. Leucadia’s cliff 
The Lesbian Sappho leap’d from in a miff, 

To punish Phaon ; Icarus went dead. 

Because the wax did not continue stiff; 

And, had he minded what his father said, 

He had not given a name unto his watery bed. 

Sands, 

We must now advance the time several days, and change the 
scene to a distant part of the ocean — within the tropics, indeed. 
The- females had suffered slight attacks of sea-sickness, and recov- 
ered from them, and the brig was sate from all her pursuers. Ihe 
manner of Spike’s escape was simple enough, and without any 
necromancy. While the steamer, on the one hand, was standing 
away to the northward and eastward, in order to head him off, and 
the schooner was edging in with the island, in order to prevent his 
beating up to windward of it, within its shadows, the brig had run 
close round the northern margin ot the hmd, and hauled up to lee- 
ward of the island, passing between it and the steamer. All this 
time, her movements were conceal led from the schooner by the island 
itself, and from the steamer by its shadow and dark background, aided 
by the distance, liy making short tacks, this expedient answered 
perfectly well; and, at the very moment when the two revenue ves- 
sels met, at midnight, about three leagues to-leeward of Blok Island, 
the brigantine “ Molly Swash ’’was just clearing her most wealberly 
point, on the larboard,^ tacit, and coming out exactly at the spot 
where the steamer was when first seen that afternoon. Spike stood 
to the westward, until he was certain ot having the island fairly be- 
tween him and his pursuers, when be went about, and filled away 
on his course, running out to sea again on an easy bowline. At 
sunrise the next day he was fifty miles to the southward and east- 
ward of Montauk; the schooner was going into INew London, her 
officers and people quite chop-fallen; and the steamer was paddling 
up the Sound, her captain being fully persuaded that the runaways 
had returned in the direction from which they had come, and might 
yet be picked up in that quarter. 

The weather was light, just a week after the events related in the 
close of the last chapter. By this time the brig had got within the 
influence of the trades; and, it beicir the intention of Spike lo pass 
to the southward ot Cuba’, he had so far profited by the westerly 
%Yiads, as to get tvell ta the eastward of the Mona Passage, the strait 


JACK TIER. 


65 

Ihrough which he intended to shape his course on making the 
islands. Early on that morning, Mrs. Budd had taken her seat on 
the trunk ot the cabin, with a complacent air, and arranged her 
netting, some slight passages of gallantry, on the part ot the captain, 
having induced her to propose netting him a purse. Biddy was 
going to and fro, in quest of silks and needles, her mistress having 
become slightly capricious in her tastes of late, and giving her,, on 
all such occasions, at least a double allowance ot occupation. As. 
for Rose, she sat reading beneath the shade of the coach-house deck, 
while the handsome young mate was within three feet of her, work- 
ing up his logarithms, but within the sanctuary of his own state- 
room; the open door and window of which, however, gave him 
every facility he could desire to relieve his mathematics, by gazing 
at the sweet countenance of his charming neighbor. Jack Tier and 
Josh were both passing' to and fro, as is the wont of stewards, be- 
tween the caboose and the cabin, the breakfast table being just 
then in the coarse of preparation. In all other respects, always ex- 
-cepthig the man at the wheel, who stood within a fathom of Rose, 
{Spike had the quarter-deck to himself, and did not fail to pace its 
weather-side with an air that denoted the master and owner. After 
exhibiting his sturdy, but short, person in this manner, to the ad- 
miring eyes of all beholders, for some time, the captain suddenly^ 
took a seat at the side of the relict, and dropped into the following 
discourse. 

“ The weather is moderate. Madam Budd; quite moderate,” ob- 
served Spike, a sentimental turn coming over him at the moment. 

What 1 call moderate and agreeable.” 

” So much the better for us; the ladies are fond of moderation, 
sir.” 

‘‘Not in admiration. Madam Budd— ha! ha! ha! no, not in ad- 
miration. Immoderation is what they like when it comes to that. 
I’m a single man, but 1 know that the ladies like admiiation— mind 
where you’re sheering to,” the captain said, interrupting himself a 
little fiercely, considering the nature of the subject, in consequence 
of Jack Tier’s having trodden on his toe in passing; ” or I’ll teach 
you the navigation of the quarter-deck, Mr. Burgoo!” 

‘‘ Moderation — moderation, my good captain,” said the simpering 
relict. ” As to admiration, 1 confess that it is agreeable to us ladies; 
more especially when it comes from gentlemen of sense, and intel- 
ligence, and experience.” 

Rose fidgeted, having heard every word that was said, and her 
lace flushed; for she doubted not that Harry's ears were as good as 
her own. As for the man at the wheel, he turned the tobacco over 
in his mouth, hitched up his trousers, and appeared interested, 
though somewhat mystified; the conversation was what he would 
havelterraed “talking dictionary,” and he had some curiosity to 
learn how the captain would work his way out of it. It is proba- 
ble that Spike himself had some similar gleamings ot the difficul- 
ties of his position, for he looked a little troubled, though still reso- 
lute. It was the first time he had ever lain yard-arm and y^rd-arm 
with a widow, and he had long entertained a fancy that such a 
situation was trying to the best of men. 

■“ Yes, Madam Budd, yes,” he said, “ exper’ence and sense carry 


JACK TIER. 


66 

weight with ’em, wherever they go. I’in glad to find that you 
entertain these just notions ol us gentlemeii, and make a diflerence 
between boys and them that’s seen aud known exper’euce. For my 
part, I count youngsters under forty as so much lumber about' 
decks, as to any coiiifort and calculations in keepin’ a family, as a 
family to* be kept.” . ^ 

Ml'S, Budd looked interested, but she remained silent on hearing 
• this remark as became her sex. 

“ Every man ought to settle in life, some time or other. Madam 
Budd, accordin’ to my notion, though no man ought to be in a 
boyish haste about it,” continued the captain. ” Now, in m}’- own 
case, I’ve been so busy all my youth — not that I’m very old now, 
but I’m no boy — but all my younger days have been passed in try- 
ing to make things meet, in a way to put any lady who might-take 
a fancy to me — ” 

” Oh! captain — that is strong! The ladies do not lake fancies 

for gentlemen, but the gentlemen take fancies for ladies!” 

” Well, well, you. know what 1 mean. Madam Budd; aud so long 
as the parties understand each other, a word dropped, or a word 
put into a charter-part}’', makes it neither stronger nor weaker. 
There’s a time, howsomever, in every man’s life, when he begins to 
think of settling down, and Of considerin’ himself as a sort of 
mooring chain for children and the likes of them to make fast to. 
Such is my natur’, 1 will own; and ever since I’ve got to be intimate 
in your family. Madam Budd, that sentiment has grown stronger 
and stronger in me, till it has got to be uppermost in all my ideas. 
Bone of my bone, and flesh of my flesh, as a body might sa 5 ^” 

Mrs. Budd now looked more than interested, for she looked a 
little confused, and Kose began to tremble for her aunt. It was 
evident that the parties most conspicuous in this scene were hot at 
all conscious that they were overheard, the intensity of their atten- 
tion being too much concentrated on what was passing to allow* of 
any observation without their own narrow circle. What may be 
thought still more extraordinary, but w*hat in trulh was the most 
natural of all, each of the parties ■was so intently bent on his or 
her own train of thought, that neither in the least suspected any 
mistake. 

” Grown with your growth, and strengthened with your 
strength,” rejoined the relict, smiling kindly enough on the captain 
to have encouraged a much more modest man than he happened 
to be. 

‘‘Yes, Madam Budd — very just that remark; growm with my 
strength, and strengthened with my giowdh, as one might say; 
though I’ve not done much at growing for a good many years. 
Your late husband. Captain Budd, often remarked how'^ very early 
1 got nay growth; and rated me as an ‘able-bodied’ hand, when 
most lads think it an honor to be placed among the ‘ or’naries.’ ” 

_ The relict looked grave; and she wondered at any man’s being so 
singular as to allude to a first husband, at the very moment he Vas 
thinking of offering nimself for a second. As for herself, she had 
not uttered as many words in the last four years, as she had uttei-ed 
in that very conversation. Without making some allusion to her 
‘‘poor dear Mr. Budd.” The reader is not to do injustice to the 


JACK TIER. 


6 ? 

<japtam’s widow, how^ever, by supposing for a moment (bat\slie was 
actually so weak as to feel any tenderness for a man like Spike, 
which would be doing a great wrong to both her taste and her 
judgnaent, as Rose well knew, ev^n while most annoyed by the con- 
< versatiou she could not but overhear. All that influenced the go6d 
relict was that besetting weakness of her sex, which renders admira- 
tion so universally acceptable; and predisposes a female, as it might 
be, to listen to a suitor with indulgence and some little show of 
kindness, even when resolute to reject him. As for Rose, to own 
the truth, her aunt did not give her a thought, as yet, notwithstand- 
ing Spike was getting to be so sentimental. 

“ Yes, your late excellent and honorable consort always said that 
1 got my growth sooner than any youngster he ever fell in with,” 
resumed the captain, after a short pause; exciting fresh wonder in 
his companion, that he would persist in lugging in the ” dear de- 
parted ” so very unseasonably, “lam a great admirer of all the 
JBudd family, my good lady, and only wish my connection with it 
had never tarminated: it tarminated it can be called.” 

“ It need not be terminated, Captain Spike, so long as friendship 
exists in the human heart.” 

“Ay, so it is alw'ays with you ladies; when a man is bent on 
suthin’ closer and more interestin’ like, you’re for putting it ofl: on 
friendship. Now friendship is good enough in its way, Madam 
Budd, but friendship isn’t love."' 

'"Love!" echoed the wddow, fairly starting, though she looked 
down at her netting, and looked as confused as she knew how. 
“ That is a very decided word. Captain Spike, and should never be 
mentioned to a woman’s ear lightly.” 

So the captain now appeared to think, too, for no sooner had he 
delivered himself of the important monosyllable, than he left the 
widow’s side, and began to pace the deck, as it might be to moder- 
ate his own ardor. As for Rose, she blushed, if lier more practiced 
aunt did not; while Harry Mulford- laughed heartiR'',' taking good 
care, however, not to be heard. The man at the wheel turned the 
tobacco again, gave/his trousers another hitch, and wondered anew 
whither tli-e skipper was bound. But the drollest manifestation of 
surprise came from Josh, the steward, who was passing along the 
lee side of tire quarter-deck, with a teapot in his hand, when the 
energetic manner of the captain sent the words “ friendship isn’t 
love ” to his ears. This induced him to stop for a single instant, and 
to cast a wondering glance behind him; after which he moved on 
toward the galley, mumbling as he went— “ Lub! what he want of 
lub, or what lub want of lam; Well, l.dot’ink Captain Spike bowse 
his jib out pretty ’arly dis mornin';” 

Captain Spike soon eot over the (ffecfs of his effort, and the con- 
fusion of the relict did not last any material length of time. As the 
former had gone so far, however, he thought the present an occa- 
sion as good as another to bring matters to a crisis. 

“ Our sentiments sometimes get to be so strong. Madam Budd,” 
resumed the lover, as he took his seat again on the trunk, “that 
they run away with us. Men is liable to be run away with as well 
as ladies. 1 once had a ship run away with me, and a pretty time 
we had of it. Did you ever hear of a ship’s running away with her 


68 


JACK TIER. 


people, Madam Budd, just as your horse ran away with your 
bugyy?” 

“ 1 suppose 1 nlust have heard of such things, sir, my education, 
having been so maritime, though just at this moment I can not re- 
Ccill an instance. When my horse ran away the buggy was cap- 
asided. Did your vessel cap-aside on the occasion you mention?” 

” No^ Madam Budd, no. The ship was off the wind at the time 
1 mean, and vessels do not capsize when off the wind. I'll tell you 
how it happened. We was a-scuddin’ under a goose- wing fore- 
sail — ” 

” Yes, yes,” interrupted the relict, eagerly. “ I’ve often heard 
of that sail, which is small, and used only in tempests.” 

” Heavy weather. Madam Budd-— only in heavy weather.” 

“ It is amazing to me, captain, how you seamen manage to weigh 
the weather. 1 have often heard of light weather and heavy weather,, 
but never fairly understood the manner of weighing it.” 

” Why, we do make out to ascertain the difference,” replied the' 
captain, a little puzzled for an answer; “ and 1 suppose it must be 
by means of the barometer, which goes up and down like a pair of 
scales. But the time X mean, we was a-scuddin’ under a goose-wing 
foresail — ” 

” A sail made of goose’s wings, and a beautiful object it must be; 
like some of the caps and cloaks that come from the islands, which 
aie all of feathers, and charming objects are they. 1 beg pardon — 
you had your goose’s wings spread — ” 

” Yes, Madam Budd, yes; we was steering for a Mediterranean!, 
port, intending to clear a mole-head, when a sea took us under the-' 
larboard quarter, gave us such a sheer to-port as sent our cat- head 
ag’in a spile, and raked away the chain-plates of the topmast back- 
stays, bringing down all the forrard hamper about our ears.’’' 

This description produced such a confusion in the mind of the 
widow, that she was glad when it came to an end. As for the cap- 
tain, fearful that the ‘‘goose’s wings” might be touched upon 
again, he thought it wisest to attempt another flight on those of 
Cupid. 

As 1 was sayin’. Madam Budd, friendship isn’t love ; no, not a 
ffit of it! Friendship is a common sort of feelin’; but love, as you 
, must know by exper'ence. Madam Budd, is an uncommon sort of 
feelin’.” 

Fie, Captain Spike, gentlemen should never allude to ladies’” 
knowing anything about love. Ladies respect, and admire, and 
esteem, and have a regard for gentlemen; but it is almost too strong 
to talk about their love.” 

‘‘Yes, Madam Budd, yes; 1 dare say it is so, and ought to be so; 
.and 1 ask pardon for having said as much as 1 did. But my love 
for your niece is of so animated and lastin’ a natur’, that X scarce 
know what 1 did say.” 

‘‘ Captain Spike, you amaze me! 1 declare 1 can hardlj’ breathe' 
for astonishment. My niece! Surely you do not mean Rosy?” 

‘‘ Who else should I mean? My love for Miss Rose is so very de- 
cided and animated, 1 tell you. Madam Budd, that I will not an- 
swer for the consequences, should you not consent to her marryin’' 
me.” 


JACK TIER. 69 

“ 1 can scarcely believe my ears!. You, Stephen Spike, and an 
old friend of her uncle’s, wishing to marry his niece!” 

“Just so, Madarp, Budd; thatVs it, to a shavin’. The regard I 
have for the whole family is so great, that nothin’ less than the 
hand of Miss Rose in marriage can, what 1 call, mitigate my 
feelin’s.” 

Now the relict had not one spark of tenderness herself in behalf 
of Spike; while she did love Rose better than any human being, her 
own self excepted. But she had viewed all the sentiment of that 
morning, and all the “fine speeches of the captain, very difterently 
from what the present state of things told her she ought to have 
viewed them; and she fell the mortification natural to her situation. 
The captain was so much bent on the attainment of his own object, 
that he saw nothing else, and was even unconscious that his extraor- 
dinary and somewhat loud discourse had been ovei heard. Least 
of all did he suspect that his admiration had been mistaken; and 
that in what he called ” courtin’ ” the niece, he had been all the 
while ” courtin’ ” the aunt. But little apt as she was to discover 
anything, Mrs. Budd had enough of her sex’s discernment in a 
matter of this sort, to perceive that she had fallen into an awkward 
mistake, and enough of her sex’s pride to resent it. Taking her 
work in her hand, she left her seat, and descended to the cabin, with 
quite as much dignity in her manner as it was in the power of one 
of her height and ” build ” to express. What is the most extraor- 
dinary, neither she nor Spike ever ascertained that their whole dia- 
logue had been overheard. Spike continued to pace the quarter- 
deck for several minutes, scarce knowing what to think of the 
relict’s manner, when his attention was suddenly drawn to other mat- 
ters by the familiar cry of ” Sail-ho!” 

This was positively the first vessel with which the “Molly 
Swash ” had fallen in since she lost sight of two or three craft that-^ 
had passed her in the distance, as she left the American coast. As 
usual, this cry brought all hands on deck, and Mulford out of his 
state-room. 

It has been stated already that the brig was .just beginning to feel ' 
the trades, and, it might have been added, to see the mountains of 
San Domingo. The winds had been variable for the last da.y or 
two, and they still continued, light and disposed to be unsteady, 
ranging from north-east to south-east, with a preponderance in favor 
of the first point. At the cry ot “ Sail-ho!” everybody looked in 
the indicated direction, which was west, a little northerly, but for a 
long time without success. The cry had come from aloft, and 
Mulford went up as* high as the foretop before he g(J any glimpse 
ot the stranger at all. He had slung a glass, and Spike was un- 
usually anxious to know the result of his examination. 

“Well, Mr. Mulford, what do you make of her?” he called out 
as soon as the mate announced that he saw the strange vessel. 

“ Wait a moment, sir, till I get a look— she’s a long way off„ 
and hardly visible. ” 

“.Well, sir, well?” 

“ 1 can only see the heads of her topgallant sails. She seems a 
ship steering to the southward, with as many kites flying as aa 


■70 


JACK TIER. 


Indiaman in the trades. She looks as it she were carrying royal 
stuh’-sails, sir.’^ 

“ The devil she does! Such a chap must not only be in a hurry» 
l)Ut he must be strong-handed to give himselt all this trouble in 
such litht aud variable winds. Are his yards square? Is he man- 
of-warish?” 

“ There’s no telling, sir, at this distance; though 1 rather think 
it’s stun’-sails that 1 see. Go down and {ret your breakfast, and in 
halt an hour I’ll give a better account ot him.” 

This was done, Mrs. Budd appearing at the table with great dig- 
nity in her manner. Although she had so naturally supposed that 
Spike’s attentions had been intended for herself, she was rather 
mortified than hurt on discovering her mistake. Her appetite, con- 
sequently, was not impaired, though her stomach might have been 
said to be very lull. The meal passed oft without any scene, not- 
withstanding, and Spike soon reappeared on deck, still masticating 
the last mouthful like a man in a hurry, and a good deal d VAmh'i- 
caine. Mullord sa^y his arrival, and immediately leveled his glass 
again. 

‘‘Well, wiiftt news now, sir?” called' out the captain. “You 
must have a better chance at him by this time, for 1 can see the 
chap from oft the coach-house here.” 

“ Ay, ay, sir; he’s a bit nearer, certainly. 1 should say that craft 
is a ship under stun’-sails, looking to the eastward of south, and 
that there are caps with gold bands on her quarter-deck.” 

“ llowr low down can you see her?” demanded Spike, in a voice 
ot thunder. 

So emphatic and remarkable W'as the captain’s manner in putting 
this question that the male cast a look of surprise beneath him ere 
he answered it. A look with the glass succeeded, wiien the reply 
was given. 

7\y, ay, sir; there can be no mistake— it’s a cruiser, you may 
depend on it. 1 can see the heads of her topsails now, and they are 
so square and symmetrical that gold bands are below beyond all 
doubt.” 

“ Perhaps he’s a Frenchman; Johnny Crapaud keeps cruisers in 
these seas as well as the rest on ’em.” 

, “ Johnny Crapaud’s craft don’t spread such arms, sir. The ship 

is either English or American; and he’s heading for the Mona Pas- 
sage as well as ourselves.” 

“ Come down, sir, come down; there’s work to be done as soon 
as you have breakfasted. ” 

Mulford did come down, and he was soon seated at the table with 
both Josh and Jack Tier for attendants. The aunt and the niece 
were in their own cabin, a few yards distant, with the door open. 

“What a fuss ’e cap’in make ’bout dat sail!” grumbled Josh; 
who had been in the brig so long that he sometimes took liberties 
with even Spike himself. “ What good he t’ink ’tw^’iH do to meas- 
ure him inch by inch? Bye’m-by he get alongside,'and den ’e ladies 
even can tell all about him. ” 

“ He nat’rally wishes, to know who gets alongside,” put in Tier, 
jsom'ewhat apologetically. . 

“What matter dat? All sort ot folk get alongside of ‘Molly 


JACK TIEK. 


ri 

Swash;’ and what jrood it do ’em? Yoh! yoh! yoh! 1 do remem’er 
sich times vid ’e ole hussy!’' ' * 

“ What old hussy do you mean?’’ demanded Jack Tier, a little 
fiercely, and in a way to draw Multord’s eyes from the profile of 
Rose’s face to the visages of his two attendants. 

“ Come, come, gentlemen, if you please; recollect where yoii 
are/’ interrupted the mate, authoritatively. “You are not now 
squabbling in' your galley, but are in the cabin. What is it to you. 
Tier, if Josh does call the brig an old hussy? She is old, as we all 
know, and years are respectable; and as for her being a ‘hussy,’ 
that is a term ot endearment sometimes. I’ve heard the captain 
himself call the ‘ Molly ’ a ‘ hussy,’ fifty times, and he loves her as 
he does the apple of his eye.’’ 

This interference put an end to the gathering storm, as a matter 
of course, and the two disputants shortly after passed on deck. No 
sooner was the coast clear than Rose stood in the door of her own 
cabin. 

“ Do' you think the strange vessel is an AnTierican?’’ she asked 
eagerly. 

It is impossible to say — English or American, 1 make no doubt. 
But why do you inQuiie?’’ 

“Both my aunt and myself desire to quit the brig, and if the 
stranger should prove to be an American vessel of war, might not 
the occasion be favorable?’’ 

“ And what reason can you give for desiring to do so?’’ 

“ What signifies a reason?’’ answered Rose, with spirit. “ Sjoike 
is not our master, and we can come and go as we may see fit.’’ 

“But a reason must be given to satisfy the commander of the 
vessel of war. Craft of that character are very particular about the 
passengers they receive; nor would it be altogether wise in two un- 
protected females to go on board a cruiser, unless in a case of the 
most obvious necessity.’’ 

“ Will not whatTias passed this morning be thought a sufficient 
reason?’’ added Rose, drawing nearer to the mate, and dropping 
her voice so as not to be heard by her aunt. 

Mulfoid smiled as he gazed at the earnest but attractive counte- 
nance of his charming companion. 

“And who could tell it, or lioid could it be told? Would the 
commander of a vessel of war incur the risk of receiving such a 
person as yourself on board his vessel, for the reason that the master 
of the craft she was in, when he fell in with her, desired to iriariy 
her?’’ 

Rose appeared vexed, but she was at once made sensible that it 
was not quite as easy to change her vessel at sea as to step into a 
strange door in a town. She drew slowly back into her own cabin, 
silent and thoughtful; her aunt pursuing her netting the whole time 
with an air of dignified industry. 

Well, Mr. Mulford, well,’’ called out Spike, at the head of th6 
cabin stairs, “ what news from the coffee?’’ 

“All ready, sir,’’ answered the mate, exchanging significant 
glances with Rose. “ 1 shall be up in a moment.’’ 

That moment soon came, and Mulford was ready for duty. While 
below. Spike had caused certain purchases to be got aloft, and the 


JACK TIER. 


72 

main-hatch was open and the men collected around it, in readiness 
to proceed with the work. Ilarr 7 asked no questions, for the prep- 
arations told him what was about to be done, but passing below 
he took charge of the duty there, while the captain superintended 
the part that was conducted on deck. In the course of the next 
hour eight twelve-pound carronades were ^ent up out of the hold, 
and mounted in as many of the ports which lined the bulwarks of 
the brigantine. The men seemed to be accustomed to the sort of 
work in which they were now engaged, and soon had^ tbeir light 
batteries in order, and ready for service. In the meantime the two 
vessels kept on tbeir respective courses, and by the time tbe guns 
were mounted there was a sensible difference in their relative posi- 
tions. The stranger had drawn so near the brigantine as to be very 
obvious from the latter’s deck, while the brigantine had drawn so 
much nearer to tbe islands of Ban Domingo and Porto Rico, as to 
render tbe opening between them, the well-known Mona Passage, 
distinctly visible. 

Of all this S'pike appeared to be fully aware, for he quitted the 
work several times before it was finished, in order to take a look 
at the stranger and at the land. When the batteries were arra.nged 
he and Mulford, each provided with a glass, gave a few minutes to 
a more deliberate examination of the first. 

“That’s the Mona ahead of us,’’ said the captain; “of that 
there can be no question, and a very pretty landfall you’ve made 
of it, Harry, I’ll allow you to be as good a navigator as floats.” 

“ Heveitbeless, sir, you have not seen fit to let me know whither 
tbe brig is really bound this voyage.” 

“No matter for that, jmung man — no matter, as yet. All in good 
time. When 1 tell you to lay your course for the Mona you can 
lay your course^ for the Mona; and, as soon as we are through the 
passage, I’ll let you know what is wanted next — if that bloody 
chap, who is nearing us, will let me.” 

“ And why should any vessel wish to molest us on our passage. 
Captain Spike?” 

“ Why, sure enough! It’s war times, you know; and war times 
always bring trouble to the trader— though it sometimes brings 
profit, too.” 

As Spihe concluded he gave his mate a knowing wink, which the 
other understood to mean that he expected himself some of the un- 
usual profit to which he alluded. Mulford did not relish this secret 
communication, for the past had induced him to suspect the char- 
acter of the trade in which his commander was accustomed to en- 
gage. Without making any sort of reply, or encouraging the con- 
fidence by even a smile, he leveled his glass at the stranger, as did 
Spike, the instant he ceased to grin. 

“That’s one of Uncle Barn’s fellows!” exclaimed the captain, 
dropping the glass. “ I’d swear to the chap in any admiralty court 
on ’arth!” 

“ ’lis a vessel of war, out of all doubt,” returned the mate, “ and 
under a cloud of canvas. 1 can make out the heads of her courses 
now, and see that she is carrying hard, tor a craft that is almost 
■close-hauled.” 

“ Ay, ay; no merchantman keeps his light stun’-sails set, as near 


JACK TIER. 7^ 

the wind as that fellow’s going. He’s a big chap, too— a frigate, 
at least, by his canvas.” ^ 

“ 1 do not know, sir; they build such heavy corvettes nowadays,, 
that 1 should rather take her for one of them. They tell me ships 
are now sent to sea which mount only two-and-twenty guns, but 
which measure quite a thousand tons.” 

” With thunderin’ batteries, of course.” 

“With short thirty-twos and a few rapping sixty-eight Paixhans 
— or Columbiads, as they ought in justice to be called.” 

“ And you think this chap likely to be a craft of that sort?” 

Nothing is more probable, sir. Government has several, and, 
since this war has commenced, it has been sending oft cruiser after 
cruiser into the Gulf. The Mexicans dare not send a vessel of war 
to sea, which would be sending them to Norfolk or New York at 
once; but no one can say when they may begin to make a prey of 
our commerce. ” 

‘‘ They have taken nothing as yet, Mr. Mulford; and, to tell you 
the truth, I’d much rather fall in with one of Don Montezuma’s 
craft than one of Uncle Sam’s.” 

“ That is a singular laste for an American, Captain Spike, unless 
you think, now our guns are mounted, we can handle a Mexican,” 
returned Mulford, coldly. ‘‘ At all events, it is some answer to 
those who ask ‘ What is the navy about?’ that months of war have- 
gone by, and not an American has been captured. Take away that 
navy, and the insurance offices in Wall Street would tumble like a 
New York party-wall in a lire.” 

” Nevertheless, I’d rather lake my chance, just now, with Don 
Montezuma than with Uncle Sam.” 

Mulford did not reply, though the earnest manner in which Spike 
expressed himself, helped to increase his distrust touching the nat- 
ure of the voyage. With him the captain had no further conference; 
but it was different as respects the boatswain. That worthy, waa^ 
called aft, and for half an hour he and Spike were conversing apart, 
keeping their eyes fastened on the strange vessel most of the ^mie. 

It was noon. before all uncertainty touching the charaptov of the 
stranger ceased. By that time, however, both yess'cA'Ji' were entering 
the Mona Passage; the brig well to windw,)<rd, on the Porto Rico- 
side; while the ship was so far to leeward --as to be compelled to keep 
everything close-hauled, in order to w'bather the island. The hull 
of the last could now be seen, and ro doubt was entertained about 
her being a cruiser, and one of some size, too. Spike thought she 
was a frigate; but Mulford stiP inclined to the opinion that she was 
one of the new ships; pernap^ a real corvette, or with a light spar- 
deck over her batteries. T wo or three of the new vessels were 
known to be thus fitted, and this might be one. At length all doubt 
on the subject ceased, the stranger setting an American ensign, and 
getting so near as to make it apparent that she had but a single line 
of guns. Still she was a large ship, and the manner in which she- 
plowed through the byine, close-hauled as she was, extorted ad- 
miration from Spixe. 

‘‘ We had better begin to shorten sail, Mr. Mulford,” the captain 
at length most reluctafitly remarked. “We might give the chap 
the slip, perhaps, by k.eeping close in under Porto Rico, but he 


JACK TI^:R. 


74 

would ^jive us a long chase, and might drive us away to windward, 
■when 1 wisli to keep oft between Cuba and Jamaica. He’s a trav^er; 
look, how he stands up to it under that Gioud of canvas!” 

Mulford was slow to commence on the studding-sails, and the 
<;ruiser was getting nearer and nearer. At length, a gun w^’as fired, 
and a heavy shot fell about two hundred yards short of the brig, 
and a little out of line with her. On this hint, Spike turned 
the hands up, and began to shorten sail. In ten minutes the 
” Swash ” was under her topsail, mainsail, and jib, with her light 
sails hanging in ihe gear, and all the steering canvas in. In ten min- 
utes rnore the cruiser was so near as to admit of the faces of the 
three or four men ■whose heads were above the hammock-cloths 
being visible, when she too began to told her wings. In -went her 
royals, topgallant-sails, and various kites, as it might be by some 
-common muscular agency; and up went her courses. Everything 
was done at once. By this time she 'was crossing the brig’s wake, 
looking exceedingly beautiful, with her topsail^ lifting, her light 
sails blowing out" and even her heavy courses fluttering in the 
breeze. There flew the glorious stars and stripes also; of brief exist- 
ence, but full of recoiled ions! The moment she had room, her helm 
went up, her bows fell off, and down she came on the w^eather- 
quarter of the “ Swash,” so near as to render a trumpet nearly use- 
less. 

On board the brig, everybody was on deck; even the relict hav- 
ing forgotten her mortification in curiosity. On board the cruiser, 
no one was visible, with the exception of a few men in each top, 
And a group of gold-banded caps on the poop. Among these ofiicers 
stood the captain, a red faced, middle-aged man, with the usual 
signsxrf his rank about liim; and at his side was his lynx-eyed first 
lieutenant. The surgeon and purser "TN'ere also there, though they 
stood a little apart from the more nautical dignitaries. The hail 
tliat followed came out of a trunlpet that was thrust through the 
mizgen rigging, . the officer who used it taking his cue from the poop. 

“ What brig is that?” commenced the discourse. 

“ The ‘ Molly Swash,’ of New York, Stephen Spike master.” 

“ Where from, and whither bound?” 

“ From New York, and bound to Key W’'est and a market.” 

A pause succeeded this answer, during which the officers on the 
poop of the cruiser held some discourse "with him of the trumpet. 
During the interval the cruiser ranged fairly up abeam. 

“ You are well to windward of your port, sir,” observed he of 
the trumpet, significantly. 

“1 knosv it; but it’s wartimes, and 1 didn’t know but there 
might be picaroons hovering about the Havana.” 

“^The coast is clear, and our cruisers\vill keep it so. 1 see you 
have a battery, sir!” ^ 

“Ay, ay; some old guns that I’ve had aboard these ten years: 
they’re useful, sometimes, in these seas. ” 

“ Very true. I’ll range ahead of you, ami as soon as you’ve 
Toora, I’ll . thank you to heave-to. 1 wish to send a boat on board 
you.” 

Spike was. sullen enough on receiving this order, but there was no 
help for it. He was now in the jaws of the lion, and his wisest 


JACK TIER. 


7a' 

course was to submit to the penalties of his WiUou with the l^est 
•grace he could. The necessary orders were consequently given, and 
the brig no sooner got room than she came by the wind, and backed' 
her topsail. The cruiser went about, and passing to windward, 
backed her main-topsail just forward of the “ Swash’s ” beam. 
Tiien the former lowered a boat, and sent it, with a lieutenant and a 
midshipman in its stern-sheets, on board the brigantine. As the 
cutter approached, Spike went to the gangway to receive the 
strangers. 

Although there will be frequent occasion to mention this cruiser, 
the circumstances are of so recent occurrence that we do not choose 
to give either her name or that of any one belonging tq her. We 
shall, consequently, tell the curious, who may be disposed to turn 
to their navyiists and blue-books, that the search will be of no use, 
as all the names we shall use, in reference to this cruiser, will be 
fictitious. As much of the rest of our story as the reader please 
maybe taken for gospel; but we tell him frankly, that we have 
thought it most expedient to adopt assumed names, in connection 
with this vessel and all her officers. There are good reasons .for so 
doing; and, among others, is that of abstaining from arming a 
clique to calumniate her commander (who, by the w’ay, like another 
commander in the Gulf that might be named, and who has actually 
been exposed to the sort of tracasserie to which there is allusion, is 
one of the very ablest men in the service), in order to put another in 
his place. 

The officer wffio now came over the side of the“ Swash ” we shall 
call Wallace; he was the second lieutenant of the vessel of war. 
He was about thirty, and the midshipman wdio followed him whs a 
well-grown lad of nineteen. Both had a decided man-of-war look, 
and both looked a little curiously at the vessel they had boarded. 

“ Aour servant, sir,*’ said Wallace, touching his cap in reply to 
Spike’s somewhat awkward bow. •‘Your brig is the ‘Molly 
Swash,’ Stephen Spike, bound from ISew York to Key ^yest and a 
market.” 

” You’ve got it all as straight, lieutenant, as if you was a readin’’ 
it from the log.” 

“ The next thing, sir, is to know of what your cargo is com- 
posed?” 

” Flour; eight hundred barrels of flour.” 

“Flour! Would you not do better to carry that to Liverpool? 
The Mississippi must be almost turned into paste by the quantity of 
flour it floats to market.” 

“ Notwithstanding that, lieutenant, I know Uncle Sam’s economy 
so well, as to believe 1 shall part with every bariel of my flour to 
his contractors, at a handsome profit.” 

“ You .read Whig newspapers, principally, 1 rather think, Mr.. 
Spike,” answered Wallace, in his cool, deliberate way, smiling, 
however, as he spoke. 

We may just as well say here, that nature intended this gentleman 
for a second lieutenant, the very place he filled. He was a capital 
second lieutenant, while he could not have earned his rations as 
first. So well was he assured of this peculiarity in his moral com- 
position, that he did not wish to be the first lieutenant of anything 


JACK TIEK. 


76 

in which he sailed A respec^hle seaman, a well-read and intelli- 
gent mao, a capital deck officer, or watch officer, he was too in- 
dolent to desire to be anything more, and was as happy as the day 
was long, in the easy berth he filled. The first lieutenant had been 
his messmate as a midshipman, and ranked him but two on the list 
in his present commission; but he did not envy him in the least. 
On the contrary, one of his greatest pleasures was to get “ Working 
"Willy,” as he called his senior, over a glass of wine, or a tumbler 
of ” hot stuff,” and make him recount the labors of the day. On 
such occasions, Wallace never failed to compare the situation of 
“ Working Willy ” with his own gentlemanlike ease and independ- 
ence. As second lieutenant, his rank raised him above most of the 
unpleasaift duty of the ship, while it did not raise him high enough 
to plunge him into the never-ending labors of his senior. He de- 
lighted to call himself the “ ship’s gentleman,” a sobriquet he well 
deserved, on more accounts than one. 

” You read Whis: newspapers principally, 1 rather think, Mr. 
Spike,” answered the lieutenant, as has been just mentioned, 
” while we on board the ‘ Poughkeepsie ’ indulge in looking over 
the columns of the ‘ Union,’ as well as over those of the ‘ Intelli- 
gencer,’ when by good luck we can lay our hands on a stray num- 
ber.” 

“ That ship, then, is called the ‘ Poughkeepsie,’ is she, sir?” in- 
quired Spike. 

‘‘ Such is her name, thanks to a most beneficent and sage provis- 
ion of Congress, which has extended its parental care over the navy 
so far as to imagine that a man chosen by the people to exercise so 
many of the functions of a sovereign, is not fit to name a ship. All 
-our two and three deckers are to be called after Slates; the frigates 
after rivers; and the sloops after towns. Thus it is that our craft 
has the honor to be called the United States ship the ‘ Poughkeepsie,’ 
instead of the ‘ Arrow,’ or the ‘ Wasp,’ or the ‘ Curlew,’ or the 
* Petrel,’ as might otherwise have been the case. But the wisdom 
of Congress is manifest, for the plan teaches us sailors geography.” 

” Yes, sir, yes, one can pick up a bit of I’arnin’ in that way 
cheap. The ‘ Poughkeepsie,’ Captain — ” 

‘‘The United States ship ‘Poughkeepsie,’ 20, Captain Adam 
Mull, at your service. But, Mr. Spike, you will allow me to look 
at your papers. It is a duty 1 like, for it can be performed quietly, 
and without any fuss.” 

Spike looked distrustfully at his new acquaintance, but went for 
his vessel’s papers, without any very apparent hesitation. Every- 
thing was en regie, and W allace soon got through with the cleaiance, 
rnanifest, etc. Indeed the cargo, on paper at least, ivas of the 
simplest and least complicated character, being composed of nothing 
but eight hundred barrels of flour. 

” It all looks very well on paper, Mr. Spike,” added the boarding 
officer. ” With your permission, we will next see how it looks in 
sober reality. 1 perceive your main hatch is open, and 1 suppose it 
will be no difficult matter just to take a glance at your hold.” 

” Here is a ladder, sir, that will take us at once to the half-deck, 
for 1 have no proper ’twixt-decks in this crMt; she’s too small for 
that sort of outfit. ” 


JACK TIER. 


•r? 

No matter, she has hold enough, 1 suppose, and that can con- 
■lain cargo. Take me to .it by the shortest road, JVlr. Spike, for I am 
230 great admirer of trouble.” 

Spike now led the way below, Wallace following, leaving the 
midshipman on deck, who had fallen into conversation with the relict 
and her pretty niece. The half-deck of the brigantine contained 
spare sails, provisions, and water, as usual, while quantities of old' 
canvas lay scattered over the cargo; more especially in the wake of 
the hatches, of which there were two, besides that which led from the 
quarter-deck. 

“ Flour to the number of eight hundred barrels,” said Wallace, 
striking his foot against a barrel that lay within his reach ” The 
cargo is .somewhat singular to come from New York, going to Key 
“West, my dear Spike.” 

” I suppose you know what sort of a placeTtey West is, sir; a bit 
of an island in which there is scarce so much as a potato grows.” 

“ Ay, ay, sir; I know Key West very well, having been in and 
out a dozen times. All eatables are imported, turtle excepted. But, 
flour can be brought down the Mississippi so much cheaper than it 
can be brought from New York.” 

” Have you any idee, lieutenant, what Untie Sam's rrien are pay- 
ing for it at New Orleans, just to keep soul and bodies together 
^mong the so’gers?” 

“ That may be true, sir— quite true, 1 dare say, Mr. Spike. 
Haven’t you a bit of a chair that a fellow can sit down on— this 
half deck of yours is none of the most comfortable places to stand 
in. Thank you, sir — thank you, with all my heart. What lots of 
old sails you have scattered about the hold, especially in the wake 
of the hatches!” 

” Why, the craft being little more than in good ballast trim, 1 
keep the hatches off to air her; and the spray might sph doun 
upon the flour at odd times but for them ’ere sails.” 

“ Ay, a prudent caution. So you think Uncle Sam’s people will 
be. after this flour as soon as they learn you have got it snug in at 
Key West?” 

” What more likely, sir? Y'ou know how it is with our govern 
ment — always wrong, whatever it does! and 1 can show you para- 
graphs in letters written from New Orleans, which tell us that 
Uncle Sam is paying seventy-five and eighty per cent, more for 
flour than anybody else.” 

“ He must be a flush old chap to be able to do that. Spike.” 

“ Flush! 1 rather think he is. Do you know that he is spend- 
in’, accordin’ to approved accounts, at this blessed moment, as much 
as half a million a day? 1 own a wish to be pickin’ up some of the 
coppers while they are scattered about so plentifully.” 

” Half a million a day! why that is only at the rate of $187,000,- 
000 per annum; a mere trifle. Spike, that is scarce worth mention- 
ing among us mariners.” 

” It’s so in the newspapers, I can swear, lieutenant.” 

” Ay, ay, and the newspapers will swear to it, loo, and they that 
gave the newspapers their cue. But no matter, our business is with 
th4 flour. Will you sell us a barrel or two for our mess? I heard 
the caterer say we should want flour in the course of a week or so.” 


78 JACK TIER. ' > 

' ' / ■ ' 

Spike seemed embarrassed, though not to a degree to awaken sus- 
picion in his companion. 

“1 never sold cargo at sea, long as I’ve sailed and owned a 
craft,” he answeied, as if uncertain tvhat to do. ” If you’ll pay 
the price 1 expect to get in the Gulf, and will take ten barrels^ i 
don’t know but we may make a trade on’t. I shall only ask ex- 
pected prices. ” 

Which will be— ” 

” Ten dollars a barrel. For one hundred silver dollars 1 will put 
into your boat ten barrels of the very best brand known in the 
Western country.” 

” This is dealing rather more extensively than 1 anticipated, but 
we will lefleci on it.” ' . 

Wallace now indolently arose and ascended' to the quarter-deck, 
followed by Spike, who continued to press the flour on him, as if 
anxious to make money. But the lieutenant hesitated about paying 
a price so high as ten dollars, or to take a quantity as large as ten 
barrels. 

‘‘Our mess is no great matter after all,” he said carelessly. 
” Four lieutenants, the purser, two doctors, the master, and a ma- 
rine officer, and yoii get us all. Nine men could never eat ten bar- 
rels of hour, my dear Spike, you will see for yourself, with the 
quantity of excellent bread we carry. You forget the bread.” 

^ Not a bit of it, Mr. Wallace, since that is your name. But such 
flour as this of mine has not been seen in the Gulf this many a day. 
I ought In reason to ask twelve dollars tor it, and insist on such a 
.ship as your’n’s taking twenty instead of the ten barrels.” 

“ 1 thank you, sir, the ten will more than suffice; unless, indeed, 
the captain wants some for the cabin. How is it with your steerage 
messes, Mr. Archer — do you want any flour?” 

‘‘We draw a little from the ship, according to rule, sir, but we 
can’t go as many puddings latterly as we could before we touched 
last at the Havana,” answered the iaughing midshipman. ‘‘ There 
isn’t a fellow among us, sir, that could pay a shore-boat for land- 
ing him, should we go in again before the end of another month. 
1 never knew such a place as Havana. They say midshipmen’s 
money melts there twice as soon as lieutenants’ money.” 

” It’s clear, then, you'll not take any of the ten.' 1 am afraid 
after all, Mr. Spike, we can not trade, unless you will consent to 
let me have two barrels. I’ll venture on two at" ten dollars, high as 
the price is.” 

“ I shouldn’t forgive myself in six months for making so bad a 
bargain, lieutenant, so we’ll say no more about it, if you please.” 

“ Here is a lady that wishes to say a word to you, Mr. Wallace, 
before we go back to the ship, if you are at leisure to hear her, or 
iliem—lox there are tvvo of them,’' put in Archer. 

At this moment Mrs. Budd was approaching with a digriifled step, 
while Rose followed timidly a little in the rear. Wallace was a 
good deal surprised at this application, and Spike was quite as 
much provoked. As for Mulford, he watched the interview from 
a distance, a great deal more interested in its result than Jie cared to 
have knowm more especially to his commanding officer. Its object 
'was to get a passage in the vessel of war. 


JACK TIER. 


79 

** You are an officer of that Uncle Sam vessel/’ commenced Mrs. 
Bud^, who thought that she would so much the more command 
the respect and attention ot |ier listener, by showing him early hoV 
familiar she was with even the slang dialect of the seas. 

“ 1 have the honor, ma’am, to belong to that Uncle Sani craft,” 
ans\^ered Wallace, gravely, though he bowed politely at the same 
time, loukine intently at the beautiful girl in the background as he 
so did. 

” So I’ve been told, sir. She’s a beautiful vessel, lieutenant, 
and is full jiggered, 1 perceive.” 

For the first time in his life, or at least for the first time since his 
first cruise, Wallace wore a mystified look, being absolutely at a 
loss to imagine what ” full-jiggered ” could mean. He only looked, 
therefore, for he did not answer. 

“ Mrs. Budd means that you’ve a IxxW-rigged craft,” put in Spike, 
anxious to have a voice in the conference, “'this vessel being only a 
rigged brig.” 

“ Oh! ay; yes, yes — the lady is quite right. We are full jiggered 
from our dead-eyes to our eye-bolts.” 

1 thought as much, sir, from your ground hamper and top- 
tackles,” added the relict smiling. ” For my part there is nothing 
in nature that 1 so much admire as a full-jiggered ship, with her 
canvas out of the bolt-ropes, and her clew-lines and clew-garnets 
braced sharp, and her yards all abroad.” 

” Yes, ma’am, it is just as you say, a very charming spectacle. 
Our baby was born full grown, and with all her hamper aloft just 
as you see her. Some persons refer vessels to art, but 1 think you 
are quite right in referring them to nature.” 

” Nothing can be more natural to me, lieutenant, than a fine ship 
standing on her canvas. It’s an object to improve the heart and to 
soften the understanding.” 

So 1 slrould think, ma’am,” returned Wallace, a little quizzical- 
ly, ” judging from the effect on yourself.” 

This speech, unfortunately timed as it was, wrought a complete 
change in Rose’s feelings, and she no fpnger wished to exchange the 
” Swash ” for the ” Poughkeepsie.” She saw that her aunt was 
laughed at in secret, and that was a circumstance that never failed 
to grate on every nerve in her system. She had been prepared to 
second and sustain the intended application — she was now deter- 
i mined to oppose it. 

” Yes, sir,” resumed the unconscious relict, “and to soften the 
understanding. Lieutenant, did jmu eter cross the Capricorn?” 

“ No less than six times; three going and three returning, you 
know.” 

“ And did Neptune come on board you, and were you shaved?” 

“Everything was done secundum artem, ma’am. The razor was 
quite an example of what are called in poetry ‘ thoughts too deep 
for tears.’ ” 

“ That must have been delightful. As for me, I’m quite a dev- 
otee of Neptune’s; but I’m losing tirne, for no doubt your ship is 
all ready to pull away and carry on sail — ” 

“Aunt, may 1 say a word to you before you go any further,’* 
•put in Rose in her quiet but very controlling way. 


/ 


80 


JACK TIER. 


The aunt complied, and Wallace, as soon as left alone, felt like a. 
man who was released from a quicksand, into which every effort 
to extricate himself only plunged him so much the deeper. At this 
moment the ship hailed, and the lieutenant took a hasty leave of 
Spike, motioned to the midshipman to precede him, and followed 
the latter into his boat. Spike saw his visitor off in person, tending 
the side, and offering the man-ropes with his own bands. For this 
civility Wallace thanked him, calling out as his boat pulled him 
from the brig’s side— “ If we ' pull away,’ ” accenting the “ pull ” 
in secret derision of the relict’s mistake, “ you can pull away; our 
filling the topsail being a sign for you to do the same.” 

There you go, and joy go with you,” muttered Spike, as he 
descended from the gangway. ” A pretty kettle of fish would there 
have been cooked had 1 let him have his two barrels of flour.” 

The man-of-war’s cutter was soon under the lee of the ship,, 
where it discharged its freight, when it was immediately run up. 
During the whole time Walla^ce had been absent. Captain Mull and 
his officers remained on the poop, principally occupied in examining; 
and discussing the merits of the ” Swash.” ISlo sooner had their 
officer returned, however, than an order was given to fill away, it 
being supposed that the “ Poughkeepsie ” had no further concern 
with the brigantine. As for W allace, he ascended to the poop and 
made the customary report. 

” It’s a queer cargo to be carrying to West from the Atlantic- 
coast,” observed the captain, in a deliberating sort of manner, as if 
the circumstance excited suspicion; ye( the Mexicans can hardly be 
in want of any such supplies ” 

” Did you see the flour, Wallace?” inquired the first lieutenant,, 
who was well aware of his messmate’s indolence. 

” Yes, sir, and felt it too. The lower hold of the brig is full of 
flour, and of nothing else.” 

” Wear round, sir— wear round and pass athwart the brig’s 
wake,” interrupted the captain. “There’s plenty of room now, 
and 1 wish to pass as near that craft as we can.” 

This maneuver was ^rxecuted. The sloop-of-war no sooner filled 
her main-topsail than she drew ahead, leaving plenty of room for the 
brigantine to make sail on her course. Spike did not profit by this te 
opening, however, but he sent several men aloft forward, where f 
they appeared to be getting ready to send down the upper yards and 
the topgallant -mast. ]No sooner was the sloop-of -war’s helm put up 
than that vessel passed close along the brigantine’s weather side, 
and kept off across her stern on her course. As she did this, the 
canvas was fluttering aboard her, in the process of making sail, and 
Mull held a short discourse with Spike. 

“Is anything the matter aloft?” demanded the man-of-war’& 
man. 

“ Ay, ay; I’ve sprung my topgallant-mast, and think this a good 
occasion to get another up in its place.” 

“ Shall 1 lend you a carpenter or two, Mr. Spike?” 

“ Thank’ee, sir ; thank ’ee with all my heart; but w6 can do with- 
out them. It’s an old stick, and it’s high time a. better stood where 
it does. Who knows hut 1 may be chased and feel the want of re- 
liable spars!” . , 


JACK TIER. 


A 


81 


Captain Mull smiled, and raised his cap in the way of an adieUj. 
when the conversation ended; the “Poughkeepsie” sliding off 
rapidly with a free wind, leaving the “ Swash ” nearly stationary. 
In ten minutes the two vessels were 'more than a mile apart; in, 
twenty, beyond the reach of shot. 

Notwithstanding the natural and commonplace manner in which 
this separation took place, there was much distrust on board each 
vessel, and a good deal of consummate management on the part of 
Spike. The latter know that every foot the slonp-of-war went on 
her course, carried her just so far to leeward, placing his own bris* 
to that extent dead to windward of her. As the “ Swash’s ” best\ 
point of sailing, relatively considered, was close-hauled, this was. 
giving to Spike a great security against any change of purpose on 
the part of the vessel of war. Although his people were aloft and 
actually sent down the lopgallant-mast, it was only to send it up 
again, the spar being of admirable toughness, and as sound as the 
day it was cut. 

“ 1 don’t think, Mr. Mulford,” said the captain, sarcastically,. 
“ that Uncje Sam’s glasses are good enough to tell tlie difference in 
wood at two leagues’ distance, so we’ll trust to the old stick a little 
‘ longer. Ay, aj, let ’em run off before it, we’ll find another road by 
which to reach our port.” 

“ The sloop-of-war is going round the south side of Cuba, Captain. 
Spike,” answered the mate, “ and I have understood you to say that 
' you intended to go by the same passage.” 

“ A body may change his mind, and no murder. Only consider, 
Harry, how common it is for folks to change their minds. 1 did in- 
tend to pass between Cuba and Jamaica, but 1 intend it no longer. 
Our run from Montauk has been oncommon short, and I’ve time 
enough to spare to go to the southward of Jamaica, too if the notioa 
takes me.” 

“ That would greatly prolong the passage. Captain Spike — a week, 
at least.” 

“What if it does— I’ve a week to spare; we’re nine days afore 
our time.” 

“Our time for what, sir? Is there any particular time set for a. 
vessel’s going into Key West?” 

“Don't be womanish and over-cur’ous, Mulford. 1 sail with 
sealed orders, and when we get well to windward of Jamaica, ’twill 
be time enough to open them.” 

Spike was as good as his word. As soon as he thought the sloop- 
of-war was far enough to leeward, or when she was hull down, he 
filled away and made sail on the wind to get nearer to Porto Rico. 
Long ere it was dark he had lost sight of the sloop of-war, when 
he altered his course to south- vs^esterly, w^hich was carrying him in 
the direction he named, or to windward of Jamaica. 

While this artifice was being practiced on board the “Molly 
Sw^ash,” the officers of the “ Poughkeepsie ” were not quite satisfied 
with their own mode of proceeding with the biigantine. liie more 
they reasoned on the matter, the more unlikely it seemed to them 
that Spike could be really carrying a cargo of flour from New York 
to Key West, in the expectation of disposing of it to the United 


JACK TIER. 



States contractors, and the more out of the way did he seem to be 
' in running through the Mona Passage." 

“ Bis true course snould have been by the Hole in the TV all, and 
so down along the norlh side or Cuba, before the wind,’^ observed 
the first lieutenant. “1 wonder that never struck you, Wallace; 
you, who so little like trouble.” 

“ Certainly, I knew it, but we lazy people like running off before 
>,the wind, and 1 did not know but such were Mr. Spike’s tastes,” 
Answered the ship’s gentleman. “In my judgment the reluctance 
he showed to letting us have any of his flour is much the most sus- 
picious circumstance in the whole affair.” 

These two speeches were made on the poop, in the presence of 
the captain, but in a sort of an aside that admited of some of the 
ward-room familiarity exhibited. Captain Mull was.not supposed to 
hear what passed, though hear it he in fact did, as was seen by his 
own remarks, which immediately succeeded. 

“ 1 understood you to say, Mr. Wallace,” observed the captain, a 
little dryly, “ that you saw the flour yourself?” 

“ 1 saw the ^om-barrels, sir; and as regularly built were they as 
any ban els that ever were branded. But a flour-barrel have 
contained something besides 

“Flour usually makes itself visible in the handling; were these 
barrels quite clean?” 

“ Far from it, sir. They showed flour on their staves, like any 
other cargo. After all, the man may have more sense than we give 
him credit for, and find a high market for his cargo.” 

Captain Mull seemed to muse, which was a hint for his juniors 
not to contiifiie the conversation, tut rather to seem to muse, too. 
After a short pause, the captain quietly remarked— “ Well, gentle- 
men, he will be coming down after us, 1 suppose, as soon as he gets 
his new topgallant- mast on-end, and then we can keep a bright look- 
out for him. We shall cruise off Cape San Antonio for a day or 
two, and no doubt shall get another look at him. I should like'to 
have one baking irom his flour..” 

But Spike had no intention to give the “ Poughkeepsie ” the de- 
sired opportunity. As has been stated, he stood off to the south- 
ward on a wind, and completely doubled the eastern end of Ja- 
maica, when he put his helm up, and went, with favoring wind and 
current, toward the northward and westward. The consequence 
was, that he did not fall in with the “ Pouglikeepsie ” at all, which 
vessel was keeping a sharp lookout for him in the neighborhood of 
Cape San Antonio and the Isle of Pines, at the very moment he was 
running down the coast of Yucatan. Of all the large maritime 
countries of the world, Mexico, on the Atlantic, is that which is the 
most easily blockaded by a superior naval power. By maintaining 
a proper force between Key West and the Havana, and another 
squadron between Cape San Antonio and Loggerhead Key, the 
whole country, the Bay of Honduras excepted, is shut up, as it might 
be in a bandbox. It is true the Gulf would be left open to the Mex- 
icans, were not squadrons kept nearer in; but as for anything get- 
ting out into the broad Atlantic, it wmuld be next to hopeless. The 
•distance to be watched between the Havana and Key West is only 


JACK TIER. " 83 

about sixty miles, while that in the other direction is not much 
greater. 

* While the “ Swash ” was inatdng the circuit of Jamaica, as de- 
scribed, her caplain had little communication with his passengers. 
The misunderstanding with the relict embarrasssed him as much aS it 
embarrassed her; and he was quite willing to let time mitigate her 
resentment. Rose would be just as much in his power a iorlnight 
hence as she was to-day. This cessation in the captain’s attentions- 
gave the leinales greater liberty, and they improved it. singularly 
enough as it seemed to Mulfofd. by cultivating a strange sort of in- 
timacy with Jack Tier. The very day that succeeded I he delicate 
conversation with Mrs. Budd, to a part of which Jack had been an 
auditor, the uncouth-looking steward’s assistant was seen in close 
conference with the pretty Rose, the subject of their conversation 
being, apparently, of a most engrossing nature. From that hour. 
Jack got to be not only a confidant, but a favorite, to Mulford’s- 
great surprise. A less inviting subject for tete-d-tUes and confiden- 
tial dialogues, thought the 3 mung man, could not well exist; but se 
it was: woman’s caprices are inexplicable; and not only Rose and 
her aunt, but even the captious and somewhat distrufttul Biddy^ 
manifested on all occasions not only friendship, but kindness and 
consideration for Jack. 

“You quite put my nose out o’ joint, you Jack Tier, with ’e 
lady,” grumbled Josh, the steward dejure, if not now de facto, of 
the* craft, and 1 neber see nuttin’ like it! 1 s’pose you expect ten 
dollar, at least, from dem passenger, when we gets in. But I’d have 
you to know, Misser Jack, if 3 mu please, dat a steward be a steward^ 
and he don’t like to hab trick played wid him, afore he own face.” 

“Poh! poh! Joshua,” answered Jack good-naturedly, “don’t 
distress yourself on a consait. In the first place, you’ve got no noso 
to be put out of joint; or, if you have really a nose, it has no joint. 
It’s nat’ral for folks to like their own color, and 1 he ladies prefar 
me, because I’m white.” 

“Not so werry white as all dat, nudder,” grumbled Josh. “1 
see great many whiter dan you. But, if dem lady like you so much 
as to gib you ten dollar, as 1 expects, when we gets in, 1 presumes 
you’ll hand over half, or six dollar, of dat money to your superior 
officer, as is law in de case.” 

“ Do you call six the half of ten, Joshua, my scholar, eh?” 

“ Well, den, seven, if you like dat better. 1 wants just half, and 
just half 1 means to git.” 

“ And half you shall have, maty, 1 only wish you would just 
tell me where we shall be, when we gets in.” 

“How 1 know, white man? Dat belong to skipper, and better 
ask him. if he don’t gib you lick in de chop, p’rhaps he tell you.” 

As Jack Tier had no taste for “ licks in the chops,” he did not 
follow Josh’s advice. But his agreeing to give half of the ten dol- 
lars to the steward kept peace in the cabins. He was even so scru- 
pulous of his wmrd, as to hand to Josh a half-eagle that very day- 
money he had received from Rose; saying he would trust to Provi- 
dence for his own halt of the expected doucmr. This concession 
placed Jack Tier on high grounds with his “ superior officer,” and 


84 ' ‘ JACK TIER. 

from that time the former was left to do the whole of the customary 
service of the ladies’ cabin. 

A.8 respects the vessel, nothing worthy of notice occurred until 
-she had passed Loggerhead Key, and was fairly launched in the 
Gulf of Mexico. Then, indeed. Spike took a step that greatly sur- 
prised his mate The lattei was directed to bring all his instruments 
•charts, etc., and place them in the captain’s gtate-room, where it was 
understood they were to remain until the brig got into port. Spike 
was but an indifferent navigator, while Mulford was one of a higher 
order than common. So much had the former been accustomed to 
rely on the latter, indeed, as they approached a strange coast, that 
he could not possibly have taken any step, that was not positively 
oriminal, which would have given his mate more uneasiness than 
this. 

At first, Multord naturally enough suspected that Spike intended 
to push tor some Mexican port, by thus blinding his eyes as to the 
position of the vessel. The direction steered, however, soon re- 
lieved the mate from this apprehension. From the eastern extrem- 
ity of Yucatan, the Mexican coast trends to the westward, and even 
to the south of west, for a long distance, whereas the course steered 
by Spike was north-easterly. This was diverging from the enemy’s 
coast instead of approaching it, and the circumstance greatly re- 
lieved the apprehensions of Mulford. 

Kor was tlie sequestration of the mate’s instruments the only 
suspicious act of Spike. He caused the brig’s paint to be entirely 
altered, and even went so far toward disguising her, as to make 
some changes aloft. All this was done as the vessel passed swiftly 
on her course, and everything ha.d been ettected, apparently to the 
captain’s satisfaction, when, the cry of “ Land-ho!” was once more 
heard. The land proved to be a cluster of low, small islands, part 
coral, part sand, that might have been eight or ten in number, and 
the largest of which did not possess a surface of more than a very 
few acres. Many were the merest islets imaginable, and on one of 
the largest of the cluster rose a tall, gaunt light-house, having the 
customary dwelling of its keeper at its base. JMothing else was vis- 
ible; the broad expanse of the blue waters of the Gulf excepted. 
All the land in sight would not probably have made one field of 
twenty acres in extent, and that seemed cut oft from the rest of the 
V orld by a broad barrier of water. It was a spot of such singular 
situation and accessories, that Mulford gazed at it with a burning 
desire to know where he was, as the brig steered through a channel 
between two of the islets, into a capacious and perfectly safe basin, 
formed by the group, and dropped her anchor in its center. 


CHAPTER V. 

He sleeps; but dreams of massy gold 
And heaps of pearl. He stretch’d his hands — 

He hears a voice— “ 111 man, withhold!” 

A pale one near him stands. 

Dana. 

It was near nightfall when the Swash ” anchored among the 
low and small islets mentioned. Rose had been on deck, as the 


JACK TIER. 


85 


Tessel approached this singular and solitary haven, watching the 
.movements of those on board, as well as the appearance of objects 
on the land, with the interest her situation would be likely to 
awaken. She saw the light and manageable craft glide through the 
narrow and crooked passages that led into the port, the process of 
anchoring, and the scene ot tranquil solitude that succeeded; each 
following the other as by a law of nature. The light-house next, 

' attracted her attention, and, as soon as the sun disappeared, her 
eyes were fastened on the lantern, in expectation of beholding 
the watchful and warning fires gleaming there, to give the mar- 
iner notice of the position of the dangers that surrounded the 
place. Minute went by after minute, however, and the customary 
illumination seenved to be forgotten. 

Why is not this light shining?” Rose asked of Mulford, as the 
young man came near .her, after having discharged his duty in help- 
ing to moor the vessel, and in clearing the decks. ” All the light-, 
houses we have passed, and they have been fifty, have shown bright 
lights at this hour, but this.” 

” 1 can not explnin it; nor have 1 the smallest notion where we 
are. I have been aloft, and there was nothing in sight but this clus- 
ter of low islets, far or near. 1 did fancy, for a moment, 1 saw a 
speck like a distant sail off here to the northward and eastward, but 
1 rather think it was a gull, or some other sea-bird glancing upward 
on the wing. 1 mentioned it to the captain when I came down, and 
he appeared to believe it a mistake. 1 have watched that light-house 
closely, too, ever since we came in, and 1 have not seen the small- 
est sigm of life about it. It is altogether an extraordinary place!” 

” One suited to acts of villainy, 1 fear, Harry!” 

” Of that we shall be better judges to- morrow. You, at least, 
have one vigilant friend, who will die sooner than harm shall come 
to you. 1 believe Spike to be thoroughly unprincipled; still he 
knows he can go so far and no further, and has a wholesome dread 
of the law. But the circumstance that there should be such a port 
as this, with a regular light- house, and no person near the last, is so 
much out of the common way, that 1 do not know what to make of 
it.” 

” Perhaps the light-house-keeper is afraid to show himself in the 
presence of the ‘ Swash-’?” 

” That can hardly be, for vessels must often enter the port, if port 
it can be called. But Spike is as much concerned at the circum- 
stance that the lamps are not lighted, as any of us caij be. Look, 
he is about to visit the building in the boat, accompanied by two 
of his oldest sea-dogs!” 

” Why might we not raise the anchor, and sail out of this place,* 
leaving Spike ashore?” suggested Rose, with more decision and spirit 
than discretion. 

” For the simple reason that the act would be piracy, even if 1 
could get the rest of the people to obey ray orders, as certainly 1 
could not. No, Rose: you, and your aunt, and Biddy, however, 
might land at these buildings, and refuse to return. Spike having no 
authority over his passengers.” 

” Still he would have the power to make us come back to his brig. 


86 


JACK TIER. 


Look, be has left tlie vessel’s side, and is going directly toward the 
lighthouse.” 

Mulford made no immediate answer, but remained at Rose’s side, 
watching the movements of the captain. The last pulled directly 
to the islet with the buildings, a distance of oidy a few hundred 
feet, the light-house being constructed on a rocky island that was 
nearly in the center of the cluster, most probably to protect it from 
the ravages of the waves. The fact, however, proved, as MuUorfl 
did not fail to suggest to his companion, that the beacon had been 
erected less to guide vessels into the haven, than to warn mariners 
at a distance, of the position of the whole group. 

In less than live minutes after he had landed, Spike himself was 
seen in the lantern, in tbe act of lighting its lamps. In a very short 
time the place was in a brilliant blaze, reflectors and all the other 
parts of the machinery of the place performing their duties as regu- 
larly as if tended by the usual keeper. Soon after. Spike returned 
on board, and the anchor- watch was set. Then everybody sought 
the rest that it was customary to take at that hour. 

Mulford was on deck with the appearance of the sun; but he 
found that Spike had preceded him, had gone ashore again, had ex- 
tinguished the lamps, and was coming alongside of the brig on his 
return. A minute later the captain came over the side. 

“ You were right about your sail, last night, a’ter all, Mr. Mul- 
ford,” said Spike, on coming aft. ” There she is, sure enough; and 
we shall have her alongside to strike cargo out and in, by the time 
the people have got their breakfasts.” 

As Spike pointed toward the light-house while speaking, the mate 
changed his position a little, and saw that a schooner was coming 
down toward the islets before the wind. Mulford now began to 
understand the motives of the captain’s proceedings, though a good 
deal yet remained veiled hi mystery. He could not tell where the 
- brig was, nor did he know precisely why so many expedients were 
adopted to conceal the transfer of a cargo so simple as that of flour. 
But he who was in the secret left but little time for reflection; for, 
swallowing a hasty breakfast on deck, he issued orders enough to his 
mate to give him quite as much duty as he could perform, when he 
again entered the yawl, and pulled toward the stranger. 

Rose soon appeared on deck, and she naturally began to question 
Harry concerning their position and prospects. He was confessing 
his ignorance, as well as lamenting it, when his companion’s sweet 
face suddenly flushed. She advanced a step eagerly toward the 
open window of Spike’s state-room, then compressed her full, rich 
under lip with the ivory of her upper teeth, and stood a single in- 
0 Stant a beautiful statue of irresolution instigated by spirit. The 
last quality prevailed; and Mulford was really startled when he saw 
Rose advance quite to the window, thrust in an arm, and turn 
toward him with his own sextant in her hand. During the course 
of the passage out, the young man had taught Rose to assist him in 
observing the longitude; and she was now ready to repeat the prac- 
tice. INot a moment was lost in executing her intention. Sights 
were had, and the instrument was returned to its place without at- 
tracting the attention of the men, who were all busy in getting up 
purchases, and in making the other necessary dispositions for dis- 


JACK TIER. 


87 

charging the flour. The observations answered the purpose, though 
somewhat imperfectly made. Mulford had a tolerable notion of 
their latitude,, having kept the brig’s run in his head since quitting 
Vucatan; and he now found that their longitude was about 83® 
west from Greenwich. After ascertaining this fact, a glance at the 
open chart, which lay on iSpike’s desk, satisfied him that the vessel 
was anchored within a group of the Dry Tortugas, or at the western 
termination of the well-known, formidable, and extensive Florida 
Reef. He had never been in that part of the world before, but had 
heard enough in sea-gossip, and had read enough in books, to be at 
once apprised of the true character of their situation. The islets 
Mmre American; the light-house was American; and the haven in 
which the “ Swash lay was the very spot in the contemplation of 
government for an outer man-of-war harbor, where fleets might ren- 
dezvous in the future wars of that portion of the world. He now 
saw plainly enough the signs of the existence of a vast reef, a short 
distance to the southward of the vessel, that formed a species of sea-, 
wall, or mole, to protect the port against the waves of the Gulf in 
that direction. This reef he knew to be miles in width. 

There was little time for speculation, Spike soon bringing the 
strange schooner directly alongside of the brig. The two vessels im- 
mediately began a scene of activity, one discharging, and the other 
receiving the flour as fast as it could be struck out of the hold of 
the “ Swash ” and lowered upon the deck of the schooner. Mulford, 
however, had practiced a little artifice, as the stranger entered the 
haven, tvhich drew down upon him an anathema or two from Spike, 
as soon as they were alone. The mate had set the brig’s ensign, and 
this compelled the stranger to be markedly rude, or to answer the 
compliment. Accordingly he had shown the ancient flag of Spain. 
For thus extorting a national symbol from the schooner, the mate 
was sharply rebuked at a suitable moment, though nothing could 
have been more forbearing than the depoftment of his conimander 
when they first met. 

When Spike returned to his own vessel, he was accompanied by 
a dark-looking, well-dressed, and decidedly genlleman-like person- 
age, whom he addressed indifferently, in his very imperfect Span- 
ish, as Don Wan (Don Juan, or John), or Senor Montefalcleron. By 
the latter appellation he even saw fit to introduce the very respecta- 
ble-looking stranger to his mate. This stranger spoke English well, 
though with an accent. 

“ Don Wan has taken all the flour, Mr. Mulford, and intends 
shoving it over into Cuba, without troubling the custom-house, I 
believe; but that is not a matter to give us any concern, ^ou know.” 

The wink, and the knowing look by which this speech was ac- 
companied, seemed particularly disagreeable to. Don Juan, who now 
paid his compliments to Rose, with no little surprise betrayed in his 
countenance, but with the ease and reserve of a gentleman. Mul- 
ford thought it strange that a smuggler of flour should be so polished 
a personage, though his duty did not admit of his bestowing much 
attention on the little trifling of the interview that succeeded. 

For about an hour the work went steadily and rapidly on. Dur- 
ing that time Mulford was several times on board the schooner, as 
indeed, were Josh, Jack Tier, and others belonging to the “ Swash.” 


JACK TIEE. 


88 

The Spanish vessel was Baltimore or clipper built, with a trunlc- 
cabin, and had every appearance oi sailing fast. Multord Avas 
struck with her model, and, while on board of her, he passed both 
forward and aft to examine it. This was so natural in a seaman,, 
that Spike, ta hile he noted the proceeding, took it in good part. He 
even called out to his mate, from his own quarter-deck, to admire 
this or that point in the schooner’s construction. As is customary 
with the vessels of southern nations, this stranger was full of men, 
but they continued at their work, some half dozen of brawny negroes 
among them, shouting their songs as they swayed at the falls, no 
one appearing to manifest jealousy or concern. At length Tier 
came near the mate, and said : 

“ Uncle Sam will not be pleased when he hears the reason that 
the keeper is not in his light-house.” 

“ And what is that reason. Jack? If you know it, tell it to me.”' 

” Go aft and look down the companion-way, mat}-, and see it for 
yourself.” 

Multord did go aft, and he made an occasion to look down into- 
the schooner’s cabin, where he caught a glimpse of the persons of a. 
man and a boy, who he at once supposed had been taken from the 
lighl-house. This one fact of itself doubled his distrust of the char- 
acter of Spike’s proceedings. There was no sufficient apf arent rea- 
son why a mere smuggler "should care about the presence of an in- 
dividual more or less in a foreign port. Everything that 'had 
occurred looked like preconcert between the brig and the schooner;, 
and the mate was just beginning to entertain the strongest distrust 
that their vessel was holding treasonable communication with the 
enemy, when an accident removed all doubt on the subject, from 
his own mind at least. Spike had, once or twice, given his opinion 
that the weather was treacherous, and urged the people of .both 
crafts to extraordinary exertions, in order that the vessels might get 
clear of each other as soon as possible. This appeal had set various 
expedients in motion to second the more regular work of the pur- 
chases. Among other things, planks had been laid from one vessel 
toAhe other, and barrels were roiled along them with very little at- 
tention to the speed or the direction. Several had fallen on the 
schooner’s deck with rude shocks, but no damage was done, until 
one, of which the hoops had not been properly secured, met with a 
fall, and burst nearly at Mulford’s feet. It was at the precise mo- 
ment when the mate was returning, from taking his glance into the 
cabin, toward the side of the ” Swash.” A white cloud arose, and. 
half a dozen of the schooner’s people sprung for buckets, kids, or 
dishes, in order to secure enough of the contents of the broken bar- 
rel to furnish them with a meal. At first nothino was visible but 
the white cloud that succeeded the fall, and the scrambling sailors 
in its midst. Cio sooner, however, had the air got to be a little 
clear, than Mulford saw an object lying in the cenier of the wreck, 
that he at once recognized for a keg of gunpowder! The captain of 
the schooner seized this keg, gave a knowing look at Mulford, and 
disappeared in the hold of his own vessel, carrying with him what 
was out of all question a most material part of the true cargo of the 
‘‘ Swash.” 

At the inoment when the flour-barrel burst. Spike was below, in. 


JACK TIER. 


89 

Close conference with his Spanish or Mexican guest; and the wreck 
^eing so soon cleared away, it is probable that he never heard of 
the accident. As for tbe two crews, they laughea a little among 
-themselves at the revelation which had been' made, as well as at the 
manner; but to old sea-dogs like them, it was a matter of very little 
moment whether the cargo^was, in reality, flour or gunpowder.- In 
a few minutes the affair seemed to be forgotten. In the course of 
another hour the “ Swash ” was light, having nothing in her but 
some pig-lead, which she used for ballast, while the schooner was 
loaded to her hatches, and full. Spike now sent a boat with orders 
to drop a kedge about a hundred yards from the place where his 
own brig lay. The schooner warped up to this kedge, and dropped 
an anchor of her own, leaving a very short range of cable out, it 
being a flat calm. Ordinarily, the trades prevail at the Dry Tortu- 
gas, and all along the Florida Reef. Sometimes, indeed,, this breeze 
sweeps across the whole width of the Gulf of Mexico, blowing 
home, as it is called— reaching even to the coast of Texas. It is sub- 
ject, however, to occasional interruptions everywhere, varying many 
points in its direction, and occasionally ceasing entirely. The latter 
was the condition of the weather about noon on this day, or when 
the schooner hauled off from the brig, and was secured at her own 
anchor. 

“ Mr. Mulford,” said Spike, “ 1 do not like the state of tbe atmos- 
phere. D’ye see that fiery streak along the western horizon? Well, 
.sir, as the sun gets nearer to that streak, there’ll be trouble, or I’m 
no judge of weather.” 

•” You surely do not imagine. Captain Spike, that the sun will be 
any nearer to that fiery streak, as you call it, when he is about to 
set, than he is at this moment!” answered the mate, smiling. 

” I’m sure of one thing, young man, and that is, that old heads 
are better than young ones. What a man has once seen, he may ex- 
pect to see again, if the same leading signs offer. Man the boat, sir, 
and carry out the kedge, which is still in it, and lay it off here, 
about three p’ints on our larboard bow.” 

Multord had a profound respect for Spike’s seamanship, what- 
ever he might think of his principles. The order was consequently 
obeyed. The mate was then directed to send down various articles 
out of the top, and to get the topgallant and royal yards on deck. 
Spike carried his precautions so far as to have the mainsail low- 
ered, it ordinarily brailing at that season pf the year, with a stand- 
ing gaff. With this disposition completed, the captain seemed more 
at'his ease, and went below to join Senor Montefalderon in a siesta. 
The Mexican, for such, in truth, was the national character of the 
•otyner of the schooner, had preceded him in this indulgence; and 
most of the people of the brig having laid themselves down to sleep 
under the heat of the hour, Mulford soon enjoyed another favor- 
able opportunity for a private conference with Rose. 

” Harry,” commenced the latter, as soon as they were alone, ” 1 
have much to tell you. While you have been absent, 1 have over- 
heard a conversation between this Spanish gentleman and Spike 
•that shows the last is in treaty with the other for the sale of the 
brig. Spike extolled his vessel to the skies, while Don Wan, as he 
calls him, complains that the brig is old and can not last long; to 


90 JACK TIER. 

■which Spike answered: ‘To be sure' she is old, Sehor MonlefaT 
deron, but she will last as lon.s: as youi^ war, Siud under a bold cap- 
tain might be made to return her cost a hundred-told!’ What war 
can he mean, and to what does such a discourse tend?” 

“ The war alludes to the war now existing between America and 
Mexico, and the money to be made is to be plundered at sea, from 
our own merchant-vessels. If Don Juan Montefalderon is really 
in treaty for the purchase of the brig, it is to convert her into a 
Mexican cruiser, either public oi private.” 

“ But this would be treason on the part of Spike?” 

“ Not more so than supplying the enemy with gunpowder, as he 
has just been doing. 1 have ascertained the reason he was so un- 
willing to be overhauled by the revenue steamer, as well as the 
reason why the revenue steamer wished so earnestly to overhaul ns. 
Each barrel of flour contains another of gunpowder, and that has 
been sold to this Sehor Montefalderon, who is doubtless an officer 
of the Mexican government, and no smuggler.” 

“ He has been at New York, this very "summer, 1 know,” contin- 
ued Rose, “ tor he spoke of his visit, and made such other remarks 
as leaves no doubt that Spike expected to And him here on this very 
day of the month. He also paid Spike a large sum of money in 
doubloons, and took back the bag to his schooner, when he had 
done so, after showing the captain enough was left to pay for the 
brig could they only agree on the terms of their bargain.” ‘ 

“ Ay, ay; it is all plain enough now; Spike has determined on a 
desperate push for a fortune; and foreseeing it might not soon be in 
his power to feturn to New Yorh in safety, he has included his de- 
signs on you and your fortune, in the plot.” 

” My fortune! the trifle 1 possess cart scarcely be called a fortune, 
Harry!” 

“It v,’ould be a fortune to Spike, Rose; and 1 shall be honest 
enough to own it would be a fortune to me. 1 say this frankly, for 
1 do believe you think too well of me to suppose that 1 seek you for 
any otlier reason than the ardent loye 1 bear your person and char- 
acter; but a fact is not to be denied because it may lead certain per- 
sons to distrust our motives. Spike is poor like myself; and the 
brig is not only getting to be very old, but she has been losing money 
for the last twelve months.” 

Multord and Rose now conversed long and confldentially on their 
situatidn and prospects. . The mate neither magnified nor concealed 
the dangers of both; but freely pointed out the risk to himself in 
being on board a vessel that was aiding and comforting the enemy. 
It was determined between them that both would quit the brig the 
moment an opportunity offered ; and the mate even went so far as 
to propose an attempt to escape in one of the boats, although he 
might incur the hazards of a double accusation, those of mutiny and 
larceny for making the experiment. Unfortunately, neither Rose 
nor her aunt, nor Biddy, nor Jack Tier, had seen the barrel of pow- 
der. and, neither could testify as to the true character of Spike’s 
connection with the schooner. It was manifestly necessary there- 
fore, independently of the risks that might be run by “ bearding the 
fion in his den,” to proceed with great intelligence and caution. 

This dialogue between Harry and Rose occurred just after the 


JACK TIER. 


91 

turn in the day, and lasted fully an hour. Each had been too much 
interested to observe the heavens, but, as they were on tlie point of 
separating, Rose pointed out to her companion the unusual and 
most menacing aspect of the sky in the western horizon. It ap- 
peared as if a fiery heat was glowing there behind a curtain of black 
vapor; and what rendered it more remarkable, was the circum- 
stance that an extraordinary degree of placidfty prevailed in all 
other parts of the heavens. Mulford scarce knew what to make of 
It; his experience not going so far as to enable him to explain the 
novel and alarming appearance. He stepped on a gun, and gazed 
around him for a moment. There lay the schooner, without a being 
visible on board of her, and there stood the light-house, gloomy in 
its desertion and solitude. The birds alone seemed to be alive and 
conscious of what was approaching. They were all on the wing* 
wheeling wildly in the air, and screaming discordantly, as belonged 
to their habits: The young man leaped oS the gun, gave a loud call 
to Spike at the companion-way, and sprung forward to call all 
hands. 

One minute only was lost, when every seaman on board the 
‘ Swash,” from the captain to Jack Tier, was on deck. Mulford 
met Spike at the cabin door, and pointed toward the fiery column 
that was booming down upon the anchorage, with a velocity and 
direction that would now admit of no misinterpretation. For one 
instant that sturdy old seaman stood aghast; gazing at the enemy 
as one conscious of his impotency might have been supposed to do, 
who quailed before an assault that he foresaw must prove irresist- 
ible. Then his native spirit and, most of all, the effects of training- 
began to show themselves in him and he became at once, not only 
the man again, but the resolute, practiced, arid ready commander. 

“ Come aft to the spring, men,” he shouted ; “ clap on the spring, 
Mr, Mulford, and bring the brig. head to wind.” 

This order was obeyed as seamen “best obey, in cases of sudden 
and extreme emergency ; or with intelligence, aptitude, and power. 
The brig had swung nearly round in the desired direction when the 
tornado struck her. It will be difficult, we do not know but it^is 
impossible, to give a clear and accurate account of what followed. 
As most of our readers have doubtless felt how great is the -power 
of the wind, whiffling and pressing different ways in sudden and 
passing gusts, they have only to imagine ttiis powder increased many, 
many fold, and the baffling currents made furious, as it might be, 
by meeting with resistance, to form some notion of the appalling 
strength and frightful inconstancy with which it blew for about a 
minute. 

Notwithstanding the circumstance of Spike’s precaution had 
greatly lessened the danger, every man on the deck of the ” Swash ” 
believed the brig was gone when the gust struck her. Over she 
went, in fact, until the water came pouring in about her half-ports, 
like so many little cascades, and spouting up- through her scupper- 
holes, resembling the blowing of young whales. It wasibe whiffling 
energy of the tornado that alone saved her. As if disappointed in 
not destroying its intended victim at one swoop, the tornado “ let' 
up ’’ in its pressure, like a dexterous wrestler, making a fresh and 
-despeiate effort to overturn the vessel, by a slight variation in its 


92 


JACK TIEK. 


course. That change saved the Swash. She righted, and evec 
rolled in the other direction, or what might be called to windward, 
with her decks full of water. For a minute longer these baffling, 
changing gusts continued, each causing the brig to bow like a reed 
to their power, one lifting as another pressed her down; and thea 
the weight, or the more dangerous part of the tornado was passed, 
though it continued to blow heavily, always in whiffling blasts, sev- 
eral minutes longer. 

During the weight of the gust, no one had leisure, or indeed in- 
clination, to look to aught beyond its effect on the brig. Had one 
been otherwise disposed, the attempt would have been useless, for 
the wind had filled the air with spray, and near the islets even with 
sand. The lurid but fiery tinge, too, interposed a veil that no hu- 
man eye could penetrate. As the tornado passed onward, however, 
and the winds lulled, the air again became clear, and in five min- 
utes after the moment when the “ Swash ” lay nearly on her side, 
with hei lower yard-arm actually within a few feet of the water, 
all was still and placid around her, as one is accustomed to see the 
ocean In a calm of a summer’s afternoon. Then it was that those 
who had been in such extreme jeopardy could breathe freely and 
look about them, On board the “ Swash ” all was well — not a rope- 
yarn had parted, or an eye-bolt drawn. Tbe timely precautions of 
Spik(5 had saved his brig, and great was his joy thereat. 

In the midst of the infernal din of the tornado, screams had as- 
cended from the cabin, and the instant he could quit the deck with 
propriety Mulford sprung below, in order to ascertain their cause. 
He apprehended that some of the females had been driven to lee- 
ward when the brig went over, and that part of the luggage or fur- 
niture had fallen on them. In the ‘main cabin, the mate founct 
Senor Montefalderon just quitting his’ berth, composed, gentleman-" 
like, and collected, josh was braced in a corner nearly gray with 
fear, while Jack Tier still lay on the cabin floor, at the last point to 
which he had rolled. One word sufficed to let Don Juan know that 
the gust had passed, and the brig was safe, when Mulford tapped at 
the door of the inner cabin. Rose appeared pale, but calm and un- 
hurt. 

“ Is any one injured?” asked the young man, his mind relieved 
at once, as soon as he saw that she who most occupied his thoughts 
was safe; ” we heard screams from this cabin.” 

“My aunt and Biddy have been frightened,” answered Rose, 
“but neither has been hurt. Oh, Harry, what terrible thing has 
happened to us? 1 heard the roaring of — ” 

“ ’Twas a tornado,” interrupted Mulford eagerly, “ but ’tis over. 
’Twas one of those sudden and tremendous gusts that sometimes 
occur within the tropics, in which the danger is usually in the first 
shock. If no one is injured in this cabin, no one is injured at all.” 

“Oh, Mr. Mulford — dear Mr. Mulford!” exclaimed the relict,, 
from the corner into which she had been followed and jammed bjr 
Biddy, “ Oh, 'Mr. Mulford, are we foundered or not?” 

“ Heaven be praised, not, my dear ma’am, though we came nearer 
to it than 1 ever was before.” .. 

“ Are we cap-asided?” 

“ Nor that, Mrs. Budd; the brig is as upright as a church.” 


93 . 


JACK TIEE. 

Upiiglit!'’ repeated feiddy, in her customary accent, “ is it as a 
church? Sure then, Mr. Mate, ’lis a Presbyterian church that you 
mean, and that is always totterin’.'’ 

“ Catholic, or Dutch — no church in York is more completely up 
and down than the brig at this moment.” 

“ Get off of me— get off of me, Biddy, and let me rise,” said the 
widow, with dignity. ‘‘ The danger is over, 1 see, and, as we re- 
turn oui thanks for it, we have the consolation of knowing that we 
have done our duty. It is incumbent on all, at such moments, to- 
be at their posts, and to set examples of decision and prudence.” 

As Mulford saw all was well in the cabin, he hastened on deckj 
foll«)wed by Senor Montefalderon. Just as they emerged from the 
companion-way. Spike was hailing the forecastle. 

” Forecastle, there,” he cried, standing on the trunk himself as 
he did so, and moving from side to side, as if to catch a glimpse of 
some object ahead. 

” Sir,” came back from an old salt, who was coiling up rigging^ 
in that seat of seamanship. 

‘‘ Where-away is the schooner? She ought to be dead ahead of 
us, as we tend now ; but blast me if 1 can see as much as her mast- 
heads.” 

At this suggestion, a dozen men sprung upon guns or other ob- 
jects, to look for the^ vessel in question. The old salt forward, 
however, had much the best chance, for he stepped on the heel of 
the bowsprit, and walked as far out as the knight-heads to. com- 
mand the whole view ahead of the brig. There he stood half a 
minute, looking first on one side of the head-gear, then the other, 
when he gave his trousers, a hitch, put a fresh quid in hi§ mouth, 
and Called out in a voice almost as hoarse as the tempest that had 
just gone by: 

“ The schooner has gone down at her anchor, sir. There’s her 
buoy watching still, as if nothing had happened; but as for the 
craft itself, there’s not so much as a bloody yard-arm, or mast- 
head of her to be seen!” 

This news produced a sensation in the brig at once, as may be 
supposed. Even Senor Montefalderon, a quiet, gentleman-like 
person, altogether superior in deportmerit to the bustle and fuss 
that usually mark the manners of persons in trade, was disturbed; 
for to him' the blow was heavy indeed. Whether he were acting 
for himself, or was an agent of the Mexican government, the loss^ 
was much the same. 

” Tom is right enough,” put in Spike, rather coolly for the cir- 
cumstances; ” that ’ere schooner of yourn has foundered, Don 
AVan, as any one can see. She must have capsized and filled, for 1 
obsarved they had left the hatches off, meaning, no doubt, to make 
an end of the storage as soon as they had done sleeping.” 

“ And what has become of all her men, Don Esteban?” for so 
the Mexican politely called his companion. ‘‘Have all my poor 
couqfrymen perished in this disaster?” 

” 1 fear they have, Don Wan, for ] see no head as of any one 
swimming. The vessel lay so near that island next to it, that a 
poor swimrher would have no difficulty in reaching the place; but 


94 JACK TIER. 

H ' 

there is no living thing to he seen. But man the boat, men; we 
will go to the spot, Senor, and examine for yourselves.” 

There were two boats in the vvater, and alongside of the brig. 
One was the “ Swash’s ” yawl, a small but convenient craft, while 
the other was much larger, fitted with a sail, and had all the ap- 
pearance of having been built to withstand breezes and seas, 
Multord felt perfectly satisfied, the moment he saw this boat, which 
had come into the haven in tow of the schooner, that it had been 
originally in the service of the light-house-keeper. As there was a 
very general de«ire among those on the quarter-deck to go to the 
- assistance of the schooner, Bpike ordered both boats manned, 
jumping into the yawl himself, accompanied by Don Juan Jllonte- 
falderon, and telling Mulford to follow with the larger craft, bring- 
ing with him as many of the females as might choose to accompany 
him. As Mrs. Budd thought it incumbent on her to be active in 
«uch a scene, all did go, including Biddy, though with great reluc- 
tance on the part of Rose. 

With the buoy for a guide. Spike had no difficulty in finding the 
spot where the schooner lay. She had scarcely shifted her berilr in 
the least, there having been no time for her even to swing lo the 
gust; but she had probably capsized at the first blast, filled, and 
gone down instantly. The water wms nearly as clear as the calm, 
mild atmosphere of the tropics; and it was almost as easy to dis- 
cern the vessel, and all her hamper, as if she lay on a beach. She 
had sunk as she filled, or on her side, and still continued in that 
position. As the water was little more than three fathoms deep, 
the upper side was submerged but a few inches, and her yard-arms 
would have been out of the water, but for the circumstance that 
the yards had canted under the pressure. • 

At first, no sign was seen of any of those who had been on board 
this ill-fated schooner when she went down. It was known that 
twenty-one souls were in her, including the man and the boy who 
had belonged to the light house. As the boat moved slowly over this 
sail ruin, however, a horrible and startling spectacle came in view. 
Two bodies were seen, .withina few feet of the surface of the water, 
one grasped in the arms of the other*, in the gripe of despair. The 
man held in the grasp was kept beneath the water solely by the 
death-lock of his companion, who was himself held where he floated, 
by the circumstance that one of his feet was entangled in a rope. 
The struggle could not have been long over, for the two bodies 
were slowly settling toward the bottom when first seen. It is prob- 
able that both these men had more than once risen to the surface 
in their dreadful struggle. Spike seized a boat-hook, and made 
an effort to catch the clothes of the nearest body, but ineffectually, 
both sinking to the sands beneath, lifeless, and without motion. 
There being no sharks in sight, Mulford volunteered to dive and 
fasten a line to one of these unfortunate men, who Don Juan 
declared at once was the schooner’s captain. Some little time was 
lost 'in procuring a lead-line from the brig, when the lead was 
dropped alongside of the drowned. Provided wit^li another piece 
of the same soft of line, which had a small running bowline around 
that which was fastened to the lead, the mate made his plunge, and 
went down with great vigor of arm. It required resolution and 


JACK TIEE. 


95 


steadiness to descend so far into salt water; but Harry succeeded;, 
and rose with the bodies, which came up with the slightest im- 
pulse.- All were immediately got into the boat, and away the latter 
went toward the light-house, which was nearer and more easy u£ 
access than the brig. 

It is probable that one of these unfortunate men might have been 
revived under judicious treatment; but he was not fated to receive 
it. Spike, who knew nothing of such matters, undertook to direct 
everything, and, instead of having recourse to warmth and gentle 
treatment, he ordered the bodies to be rolled on a cask, suspended 
them by the heels, and resorted to a sort of practice that might have 
destroyed well men, instead of resuscitating those in whom the 
vital spark was dormant, if not actually extinct. 

Two hours later. Rose, seated in her own cabin, unavoidably 
overheard the followit\g dialogue, which passed in English, a 
language that Senor Montefalderon spoke perfectly well, as has 
been said. 

“ Well, senor,” said Spike, ”1 hope this little accident will not 
prevent our final trade. You will want the brig now, to take the- 
schooner’s place.” • 

‘‘And how am 1 to pay you for the brig, Senor Spike, even if 1 
buy her?” 

‘‘ I’ll ventur’ to guess there is plenty of money in Mexico. 
Though they do say the government is so backward about paying,. 
1 have always found you punctual, and am not afraid to put faith 
in you again.” 

” But I have no longer any money to pay you half in hand, as 
I did for the powder, when last in Hew YorlC” 

” The bag was pretty well lined with doubloons when 1 saw it 
last, senor.” 

“ And do you know where that bag is; and where there is another 
that holds the same sum?” 

Spike started, and he mused in silence some little time, ere he 
again spoke. 

‘‘ 1 had forgotten,” be at length answered. ‘‘ The gold must all 
have gone down in the schooner, along with the powder!” 

‘‘ And the poor men!” 

‘‘ Why, ^ for the men, senor, more may be had for the asking, 
but powder and doubloons will be haril to find when most wanted. 
Then the men were poor men, accordin’ to my idees of what an 
able seaman should be, or they never would have let their schooner 
turn turtle with them as she did.” 

‘‘ We will talk' of the money, Don Esteban, if you please,” said 
the Mexican, with reserve. 

' ‘‘ With all my. heart, Don Wan— nothing is more agreeable to me 

than money. How many of them doubloons shall fall to my share, 
if I raise the schooner and put you in possession of your craft 
again?” 

‘‘ Can that be done, senor?” demanded Don Juan, earnestly. 

‘‘ A seaman can do almost any thing, in that way, Don Wan, it 
you will give him time and means. Por one-half the doubloons 1 
can find in the wreck, the job shall be done.” 

“ You can have them,” answered Don Juan, quietly, a good deal 


JACK TIER. 


96 

^rprised that Spike should deem it necessary to offer him any part 
ok the sum he might find. “ As for the powder, 1 suppose that is 
lost to my country. ” 

“ Not at all, Don Wan, The flour is well packed around it, and 
1 don’t expect it would take any harm in a month. 1 shall not only 
turn over the flour to you, just as it nothing had happened, but 1 
shall put tour first-rate hands aboard your schooner, who will take 
her into port tor you, with a good deal more sartainty than forty of 
the men you had. My mate is a prime navigator.” 

This concluded the bargain, every word of which was heard by 
ilose, and every word of which she did not fail to communicate to 
Mulford, the moment there was an opportunity. The young man 
heard it with great interest, telling Rose that he should do all he 
• could .to assist in raising the schooner, in the hope that something 
might turn up to enable him to escape in her, taking off Rose and 
her aunt. As tor his carrying her into a Mexican port, let them 
trust him for that! Agreeably to the arrangement, orders were giv- 
en that afternoon to commence the necessary preparations for the 
■N\ork, and considerable progress was made in them by the time the 
‘‘ Swash’s ” people were ordered to knock off. work for the night. 

After the sun had set, the reaction in the currents again com- 
menced, and it blew for a few hours heeivily, during the night. 
Toward morning however, it moderated: and when the sun re- 
^appeared, it scarcely ever diffused its rays over a more peaceful or 
quiet day. Spike caused all hands to be called, and immediately set 
about the important business he had before him. 

In order that the vessel might be as free as possible. Jack Tier 
was directed to scull the females ashore, in the brig’s yawl; Senor 
Montefalderon, a man of polished manners— as >we maintain is very 
apt to be the case with Mexican gentlemen, whatever may be the 
opinion of this good republic on the subject just at this moment — 
asked permission to be of the party. Mulford found an opportunity 
to beg Rose, if they landed at the light, to reconnoiter the place 
well, with a view to ascertain what facilities it could afford in an 
attempt to escape. They did land at the light, and glad enough 
were Mrs. Budd, Rose, and Biddy to place their feet on terra jirmd, 
after so long a confinement to the narrow limits of a vessel. 

” Well,” said Jack Tier, as they walked up to the spot where the 
buildings stood, ” this is a rum place for a light’us. Miss Rose, and 
I don’t wonder the keeper and his messmates has cleared out.” 

‘‘ 1 am very sorry to say,” observed Senor Montefalderon, whose 
countenance expressed the concern he really felt, “ that the keeper 
and his only companion, a boy, were on board the schooner, and 
have perished in her, in common with so many of my poor country, 
men. There are the graves of two whom we buried here last even- 
ing, after vain efforts to restore them to life.” 

“What a dreadful catastrophe it has been, senor!” said Rose, 
whose sweet countenance eloquently expressed the horror and regret 
«he so naturally felt — “ twenty fellow-beings hurried into eternity 
without even an instant for prayer!” 

“ You feel for them, senorita; it is natural you should, and it is 
natural that 1, their countryman and leader, should feel for them 
also. 1 do not know what God has in reserve for my unfortunate 


JACK TIEK. 


97 

country 1 We may have cruel and unscrupulous men among us, 
senorita, but we have thousands who are just, and brave, and 
honorable.” 

“So Mr. Mulford tells me, senor; and he has been much in 
your ports, on the west coast.” 

1 like that young man, and wonder not a little at his and your 
situation in this brig,” rejoined the Mexican, dropping his voice, 
so as not to be heard by their companions, as they walked a little 
ahead of Mrs. Budd and Biddy. “The Senor Spike is scarcely 
worthy to be his commander or your guardian.” 

“Yet you find him worthy of your intercourse and trust, Don 
Juan?” 

The Mexican shrugged his shoulders, and smiled equivocally; 
still, in a melancholy manner. It would seem he did not deem -it- 
wise to push this branch of the subject further, since he lurped to 
another. 

“1 like the Senor Mulford,” he resumed, “for his general de- 
portment and principles, so far as 1 can judge of him on so short an 
acquaintance.” 

“Excuse me, senor,” interrupted Rose, hurriedly— “ but you 
never saw him until 3 mu met him here.” 

“Never— 1 understand you, senorita, and can do full justice to 
the young, man’s character. 1 am willing to think he did not know 
the errand of his vessel, or I should not have seen him now. But 
what I most like him for is this; Last night, during the gale, he and 
1 walked the deck together for an hour. " We talked of Mexico, and 
of this war, so unfortunate for my country already, and which may 
become still more so, when he uttered this noble sentiment; ‘ My 
country is more powerful than yours, Senor, Montefalderon,’ he 
said, ‘and in this it has been more favored by God. You have 
suffered from ambitious rulers, and from military rule, while we 
have been advancing under the arts of peace, favored by a most 
beneficent Providence. As for this war, 1 know but little about it, 
though 1 dare say the Mexican governnrent may have been wrong 
in sonr^ things that it might have controlled, and some that it might 
not; but let right be where it will, 1 am sorry to see a nation that 
has taken so firm a stand in favor of popular government, pressed 
upon so hard by another that is supposed to be the great supnort of 
such principles. America and Mexico are neighbors, and ought to 
be friends; and while 1 do not, can not blame my own country for 
pursuing the war with vigor, nothing would please me mure than 
to bear peace proclaimed.’ ” 

“ That is just like Harry Mulford,” said Rose, thoughtfully, as 
soon as her companion ceased to speak. “ I do wish, senor, that 
there could be no use for this powder, that is now buried in the 
sea.” 

Don Juan Montefalderon smiled, and seemed a little surprised 
that the fair young thing at his side should have known of the 
treacherous contents of the flour>barrels. No doubt he found it in- 
explicable, that persons like Rose and Mulford should, seemingly, 
be united with one like Spike; but he was too well bred, and, in- 
deed, too effectually mystified, to push the subject further than 
might be discreet. 


98 


JACK TIER. 


By this time they were hear the entrance of the light-house, into> 
which the whole party entered, in a sort of mute awe at its silence 
and solitude. At Senor Montefalderon’s invitation, they ascended 
to the lantern, whence they could command a wide and fair view of 
the surrounding waters. The reef was liiuch more apparent from 
that elevation than from below; and Rose could see that numbers of 
its rocks were baie, while on other parts of it there was the ap- 
pearance of many feet of water. Rose gazed at it with longing 
eyes, for, from a few remarks that had fallen from Mulford, she 
suspected he had hopes of escaping among its channels and coral. 

As they descended and w’alked through the buildings. Rose also 
took good heed of the supplies the place afforded. There were 
flour, and beef, and pork, and many other of the common articles 
of food, as well as water in a cistern that caught it as it flowed from 
the roof of the dw^elling. Water was also to be found in casks — 
nothing like a spring or a well existing among those islets. All these 
things Rose noted, putting tliepi aside in her memory for ready 
reference hereafter. 

In the meantime the mariners were not idle. Spike moved his 
brig, and moored her, bead and stern, alongside of the wreck, be- 
fore the people got their breakfasts. As soon as that meal w’as 
ended, both captain and mate set about their duty in earnest. Mul- 
ford carried out an anchor on the off-side of the “Swash,” and 
dropped it at a distance of about eighty fathoms from the vessel’s 
beam. " Purchases were brought from both mast-heads of the brig 
to the chain of this anchor, and were hove upon until the vessel 
was given a heel of more than a streak, and the cable wjis tolerably 
taut. Other purchases were got up opposite, and overhauKd down, 
in readiness to take hold of the schooner’s 'masts. The anchor of 
the schooner was w^eighed by its buoy-rope, and the chain, after 
being rove through the upper or opposite hawse-hole, brought in on 
board the “ Swash.” Another chain wars dropped astern, in such 
a way, that when the schooner came upright, it w^ould be sure to 
pass beneath her keel, some six or eight feet from the rudder. Slings 
were then sunk over the niast-heads,,and the purchases w’ere hooked 
on. Hours were consumed in these preliminary labors, and the peo- 
ple went to dinner as soon as they w'ere completed. 

When the men had dined. Spike brought one of his purchases to 
the windlass, and the other to the capstan, though not until each 
was bowsed taut by hand; a few minutes having brought the strain 
so far on everything as lo enable a seaman, like Spike, to form 
some judgment of the likelihood that his preventers and purchases 
would stand. Sonie changes were found necessary to equalize the 
strain, but, on the wdiole, the captain was satisfied with his work, 
and the crew were soon ordered to “heave aw^ay; the windlass 
best.” 

In the course of half an hour the hull of the vessel, wdiich lay on 
its bilge, began to turn on its keel, and the heads of the spars Jo rise 
above the water. This was the easiest part of the process, all that 
was required of the purchases being to turn over a mass which 
rested on the sands of the bay. Aided by the long levers afforded- 
by the spars, the work advanced so rapidly, that, in just one hour’^ 
time after his people had begun to heave. Spike had the pleasure to 


JACK TIER. 


99 

see Ibe schooner standing upright, alongside ot his own brig, 
tbongh still sunk to the bottom. 

The wreck was secured in this position, by means of guys and 
preventers, in order that it might not again cant, when the order was 
issued to hook on the slings that were to raise it to the surface. 
These slings were the chains of the schooner, one of which went 
under her keel, while for the other the captain trusted to the 
strength of the two hawse-holes, bavin e; passed the cable out of one 
and in at the other, in a way to serve his purposes, as has just been 
stated. ' 

When all was ready. Spike mustered his crew, and made a 
speech. He told the men that he was about a job that was out ot the 
usual line ot their duty, and that he knew they had a right ,to expect 
extra pa7 for such extra w’ork. The schooner contained money, and 
his object was to get at it. If he succeeded, their reivard would be 
a doubloon a man, which would be earning more than a month’s 
wages by twenty-four hours’ work. This was enough. The men 
wanted to hear no more; but they clieered their commander, and 
set about then- task in the happiest disposition possible. 

The reader will understand that the object to be first achieved 
was to raise a vessel, with a hold filled with flour and gun-powder, 
from off the botiom of the bay to its surface. As she stood, the 
deck of this vessel was about six feet under water, and every one 
will understand that her weight, so long ns it was submerged in a 
fluid so dense as that of the sea, vvould be much more manageable 
than if suspended in air. The, barrels, for instance, were not much 
heavier than the water they displaced; and the wood-work ot the 
vessel itself was on the whole, positively lighter than the element 
in which it had sunk. As for the water in the hold, that was of 
the snu e weight as the water on the outside of the craft, and there 
had not been much to carry the schooner down, besides her iron, 
the spars that were 'out of water, apd her ballast. This last, some 
ten or twelve tons in weight, was, in fad, the principal difficulty, 
and alone induced Spike to have any doubts about his eventual suc- 
cess. There was no foreseeing the result until he had made a trial, 
how^ever ; and the order was again given to “ heave a^yay.” 

To the infinite satisfaction of the “ Swash’s” crew, the weight was 
found quite manageable, so long as the hull remained beneath the 
water. Multord, with three or four assistants, 'was kept on board 
the schooner lightening her, by getting the other anchor oft her 
bows, and throwing the different objects overboard, or on the decks 
of the brig. B}" the time the bulwarks reached the surface, as much 
was gained in this w’^ay as was lost, by having so much of the lighter •»> 
wood- work rise above the water. As a matter of course, however, 
the weight increased as the vessel rose, and more especially as the 
lower portion of the spars, the bowsprit, boom, etc., from being 
buoyant assistants, became so much dead weight to be lifted. 

Spike kept a watchful eye on his spars, and the extra supports he 
had given them. He was moving the whole time, from point to 
point, feeling shrouds, and backstays, and preveiiters, in order to 
ascertain the degree of strain on each, or examining how’^ the pur- 
chases stood. As for the crew, they cheered at their toil, incessant- 
ly, passing from capstan bars to the handspikes, and mce 'sersd'. 


100 


JACK TIEK. 


They, too, felt that their task was increasing in resistance as it acl- 
* - vanced, and now found it more difficult to gain ari inch, than it had 
been at first to gain a foot. They seemed, indeed, to be heaving 
their own vessel out, instead of heaving the other craft up, and it 
was not long before they had the “ Swash ” heeling over toward ihe 
wreck several streaks. The strain, moreover, on everything, be- 
came not only severe, but somewhat menacing. Every shroud, 
backstay^ and preventer was as taut as a bar of iron, and the chain- 
. cable that led to the anchor planted off, abeam, was as straight as if 
the brig were riding by it in a gale of wind. One or two ominous 
surges aloft, also, had been heard, and, though no fnore than straps 
and slings settling into their places under hard strains, they served 
to remind the crew that danger might come from that quarter. Such 
was the slate of things, when Spike called out to “ heave and pull,” 
' that he might take a look at the condition of the wreck. 

Although a great deal remained to be done, in order to get the 
schooner to float, a great deal had already been done. Her precise 
condition was as follows: Having no cabin windows, the water had 
entered her, when she capsized, by tlie only four apertures her con- 
struction possessed. These were the companion-way, or cabin- 
, doors; the skylight;, the main-hatch, or the large inlet amidships, 
by which cargo went up and down; and the booby-hatch, which 
was the counterpart of the companion-way, forward, being intended 
to admit of ingress to the forecastle, the apartment of the crew. 
_ Each of these hatchways, or orifices, had the usual defenses of 
“ coamings,” strong frame-work around their margins. These 
coamings rose six or eight inches above the deck, and answered the 
double purpose of strengthening the vessel, in a part that, without 
^ them, would be weaker than common, and of preventing any water 
that might be washing about the decks from running below. As 
soon, therefore, as these three apertures, or their coamings, could 
be raised above the level of the ’^"ater of the basin, all danger of the 
vessel’s receiving any further tribute of that sort from the ocean 
would be over. It was to this end, consequently, that Spike’s 
efforts had been latterly directed, though they had only in part suc- 
ceeded. The schooner possessed a good deal of sheer, as it is 
termed; or, her two extremities rose nearly a toot above her center, 
when on an even keel. This had brought her extremities first to 
the surface, audit was the additional weightwhich had consequent- 
ly been brought into the air that had so much increased the strain, 
and induced Spike to pause. The deck forward, as far aft as the 
' foremast, and aft as far forward as the center of the trunk, or to 
^•4he skylight, was above the water, or at least awash; while all the 
rest of it was covered. In the vicinity of the main-hatch there were 
several incliCs of water; enough, indeed, to leave the upper edge of 
the coamings submerged by about an inch. To raise the keel that 
' inch by means of the purchases. Spike well knew would cost him 
more labor, and would incur more risk, than all that had been done 
previously, and he paused before he would attempt it. 

The men were now called from the brig, and ordered to come on, 
board the schooner. Spike ascertained by actual measurement how 
much was Wfuited to bring the coamings of the main-hatch above 
the water, until which, he knew, pumping and bailing would be 


JACK TIER. 


101 

useless. He found it was quite au inch, and was at a great loss to 
know how that inch should be obtained. Mulford advised another 
. trial with the handspikes and bars, but to this Spike would not con- 
sent. He believed that the masts of the brig had already as much 
pressure on them as they would bear. The mate next proposed 
getting the main boom off the vessel, and to lighten the craft by 
cutting away her bowsprit and masts. The captain was well enough 
disposed to do this, but he doubted whether it would meet with tho 
approbation of “ Don Wan,*’ who was still ashore with Rose and 
her aunt, and who probably looked forward to recovering his gun- 
powder by .means of those very spars. At length the carpenter hit 
upon a plan that was adopted. 

This plan was very simple, though it had its own ingenuity. It 
will be remembered thal water could now only enter the vessel’s 
hold at the main-hatch, all the other hatchways having their coam- 
ings above the element. The capenter proposed, therefore, that the 
main-hatches, which had been off when the tornado occurred, but 
which had been found on deck when the vessel righted, should how 
be put on, oakum being first laid along in their rabbeting?, and that 
the cracks should be stuffed' with additional oakum, to exclud-e as 
much water as possible. He thought that two or three men, by 
using calking-irons for ten minutes, would make the hatchway so 
fight that very little water would penetrate. While this was doing, 
he himself would bore as many holes forward and aft as he could, 
with a two-inch augur, out of which the water then in the vessel 
would be certain to run. Spike was deliglited with this project, and 
gave the necessary orders on the spot. 

This much must be said of the crew-of the “ Molly Swash:” 
whatever they did in their own profession, they didiqtelligently and 
well. On the present occasion, they maintained their claim, to this 
character, and were both active and expert. The hatches were soon 
on, and, in an imperfect manner, calked. While this was doing, 
the carpenter got into a boat, and going under the schooner’s bows, 
where a whole plank was out of water, he chose a spot between two 
of the timbers, and bored a hole as near the surface of the water as 
he dared to dO. Not satisfied with one hole, however, he bored 
many — choosing both sides of the vessel to make them, and putting 
some aft as well as forward. In a word, in the course of twenty' 
minutes the schooner was tapped in at least a dozen places, and jets 
of water, two inches in diameter, were spouting frorh her on each 
bow. and under each quarter. 

Spike and Mulford noted ihe effect. Some water, doubtless, still 
worked itself into the vessel about the main-hatch, but that more 
flowed from her by means of the outlets just named, was quite ap 
parent. After close watching at the outlets for some time. Spike 
was convinced that the schooner was slbwly rising, the intense strain 
that still- came from the brig producing Ihat effect as the vessel 
gradually became lighter. By the end of half an hour, there could 
be no longer any doubt, the holes, which had been bored within an 
inch of the water, being now fully two inches above it. The auger 
was applied anew, still nearer to the surface of the sea, and as fresh 
outlets were made, those that began to manifest a dullness in their 
streams were carefully plugged. 


102 ' JACK TIER. • 

Spike now thought it was time to take a look at the state of things 
on deck. Here, to his joy, he ascertained that the coamings had 
-actiiall}’’ risen a little above the water. The reader is not to sup- 
pose, by this rising ot the vessel, that she had become sufficiently 
buoyan,t, in consequence of the water that had run out ot her, to 
float of herself. This was tar from being the case; but the constant 
upward pressure frorh the brig, which, on mechanical principles, 
tended constantly to bring that craft upright, had the. effect to lift 
the schooner, as the latter was gradually relieved from the weight 
that pressed her toward the bottom. 

1 he hatches were n6xt removed, wffien it was found that the water 
in the schooner’s hold had so far lowered, as to leave a vacant space 
of quite a foot between the lowest part ot the deck and its surface. 
Toward the two extremities ot the vessel this space necessarily was 
much increased, in consequence of the sheer. Men were now sent 
into the hatchway with orders to hook on to the flour-barrels — a 
whip having been rigged in readiness to hoist them on deck. At 
the same time gangs were sent to the pumps, though Spike still de- 
. pended for getting rid of the water somewffiat on the auger — the 
carpenter ‘continuing to bore and plug his'holes as new opportuni- 
ties offered and the old ouilets became useless. It vras true this- 
expedient would soon cease, for the water having found its level in 
the vessel’s hold, was very nearly on a level also with that on the 
out.side. Bailing also was commenced, both forward and aft. 

Spike’s next material advantage was obtained by means of the 
cargo. By the time the sun had set, fully two hundred barrels had 
been rolled into the hatchway, and passed on deck, whence about 
half of them were sent in the light-house .boat to the nearest islet, 
and the remainder were transferred to the deck of the brig. These 
last wnre placed on the off side of the “ Swash,” andaidedin bring- ' 
ing her nearer upright. A great deal was gained in getting rid of 
the^ barrels. The water in the schooner lowered just as much as 
the space th.ey had occupied, and the vessel -was relieved at once of 
twenty tons in weight. 

Just after the sun had set, Sen?5r’ Don Juan ALontefalderon and 
his party returned on board. They had stayed on the island to the 
last moment, at Rose’s request, for she had taken as close an obsej’- 
vation of everything as possible, in order to ascertain if kny means 
of concealment existed, in the event of her aunt, Bidd}', and hgrself 
quitting the brig. The islets were all too naked and too small, how- 
ever; and she was compelled to return to the ” Swash,” without 
any hopes derived from this quarter. 

V Spike had just directed the people to get their suppers, as the 
Mexican came bn board. Together they descended to the schooner’s 
deck, where they had a long but seciet conference. Senor Mon- 
tefalderon was a calm, quiet; and reasonable man, and while he felt 
as one would be apt to feel who had recently seen so man}' associates 
swept suddenly out of existence, the late catastrophe did not in the 
least unman him. » It is too much the habit of the American people 
to receive their impressions from newspapers, which throw oft their 
articles unreflectingly, and often ignorantly, as crones in petticoats 
utter their gossip, in'a word, the opinions thus obtained are very 
much on a level, in value, with the thoughts of tho.se who are said 

\' ' ' ' :■ 


, ' ■ JACK TIKR. ' ' 103 

to think aloud, and who give utterance to all the crudities and trivial 
liumors that may happen to reach their ears. In this maimer we 
apprehend, very false notions of oui neighbors of Mexico have be- 
come circulated among us. That nation is a mixed race, and has 
necessarily the various characteristics of such an origin; and it is 
unfortunately, little influenced by the diffusion of intelligence which 
certainly exists here. Alhoiigii an enem^, it ought to be acknowl- 
edged, however, that even IMexico has her redeeming points. Anf^lo-f ' 
Saxons as we are, w^e have no desire unnecessarily to illustrate Uiat 
very marked feature in the Anglo-Saxon character, which prompts 
the mother stock to calumniate all who oppose it, but would rather 
adopt some of that chivalrous courtesy of which so much that is 
lofty and commendable is to be found among the descendants of v 
Old Spain. 

The Senor 3Iontefalderon was earnestly engaged im w^hat he con- 
ceived to'be the cause of his country. It rvas Wrcely possible to 
bring together tw'o men impelled by motives more distinct than 
Spike and this gentleman. 1 he first w^as acting under impulse^ of 
the lowest and most groveling nature; while the last was influenced 
by motives of the highest. However much Mexico may, and has, 
weakened her cause by her own punic faith, instability, military op- 
pression, and political revolutions, giving to the Texans in particu- 
lar ample jnstification for their revolt, it was not probable that I)ou 
Juan Montefalderon saw' the force of all the arguments that a casuist 
of ordinary ingenuity could certainly adduce against his country; 
for it is a rnost unusual thing to find a man anywdiere, w'ho is will- 
ing to admit that tire positions of an opponent are good. He saiN', 
in the events of the day, a province wrested from iiis nation; and, 
in his reasoning on the subject, entirely overlooking the numerous 
occasions on wfliich his own fluctuating government had given suffi- 
cient justification, ipt to say motives, to their powerful nejghbors, 
to take tlie law^ info their own bands, and redress themselves, he 
fancied all that has occurred was pieviously planned; instead of re- . 
garding it, as it truly is, as merely the result of political events that 
no man could have foreseen, that no man had originally imagined, 
or Ihsit any man could control. 

Don Juan understood Spike completely and quite justly appre- 
ciated not only his character, but bis capabilities. Their acquaint- 
ance was not of h day, tboifgh it had ever been marked by that 
singular combination of caution and reliance that is apt to charac- 
terize the intercourse between the knave and the honest Dian, when 
circumstances compel not only commimicationj but, to a certain 
extent, confidence. They now* paced the deck of the schooner, side 
by side, for fully an hour, during which time the price of the vessel, 
the means, and the mode of payment and transfer, were fully settled 
between tliem. 

“ But what will you do with your passengers, Don Esteban?” 
asked the Mexican, pleasantly, when the more material points were 
adjusted. ” 1 feel a great interest in the young lady in partfcular, 
wflio is a charming schorita, and who tell^ me that heraiint brought 
her this voyage on account of her health. She looks much "too 
blooming to be out of health; and if she were, this is a singular 
voyage for an invalid to make.” 


104 . JACK ■ TIER. 

“You don’t understand human natur’ j'^et, altogether, 1 see, Doft 
Wan,” answered Spike, chuckling and winking. “ As you and 1 
are not only good friends, but what a body may call friends, 
I’ll let you into a secret in this affair, well knowing that you’ll not 
betray it. It’s quite true that the old woman thinks her niece is a 
pulmonary, as they call it, and that tlUs v’y’ge is recommended tor 
her, but the gal is as healthy as she’s handsom’.” 

“ Her constitution, then, ‘must be very excellent, tor it is seldoiU ‘ 
1 have seen so charming a 3"oung woman. But if the aunt is misled 
in this matter, how has it been with the niece V” 

Spike did not answer in words, but he leered upon his compan- 
ion, and he winked. 

“ You mean to be understood that you are in intelligence with _ 
each other, I suppose, Don Esteban?” returned Sen or Montetalde- 
ron, who did not like the captain’s manner, and was willing to drop 
the discourse. « 

Spike then informed his companion, in confidence, that he and 
Kose were affianced, though without the aunt’s -knowledge; that he 
intended to marry the niece the moment he reached a Mexican port ' 
with the brig, and that it was their joint intention to settle in the 
country. He added, tliat the affair required management, as his in- 
tended had property, and expected more, and he begged Don Juan - 
to,aid him, as things drew near to a crisis. The Mexican evaded an 
answer, and the discourse dropped. 

The moon was now shining, and would continue to throw its pale 
light over the scene tor two or three hours longer. Spike profited 
by the circumstance to continue the work of lightening the schooner. 
One of the first things done next was to get up tlje dead, and to re- - 
move them to the boat. This melancholy office occupied an hour, 
the bodies being landed on the islet, near the powder, and there in- 
terred tn the sands Don Juan Montefalderon attended on this oc- 
casion, and repeated some prayers over the graves, as he had done-" 
m the morning, in the cases of the two who had been buried near 
the light-house. 

While this melancholy duty was in the course of performance, • • 
that of pumping and bailing was continued, under the immediate 
personal superintendence of Mulford. It would not be easy to define, 
with perfect clearness, the conflicting feelings by which the mate of 
the ” Swash ” was now impelled. He had no longer any doubt on 
the subject of Spike’s ireason; and had it not been for Rose, he 
would not have hesitated a moment, about making off in the light- 
house boat for Key West, in order to report all that had jrassed to 
the authorities. But not only Rose was there, and to be cared for„ " 
but what was far more difficult to get along with, her aunt was with 
her. It is true, Mrs. Budd was no longer Spike’s dupe; but, under 
any circumstances, she was a difficult subject to manage, and most "" 
es])ecially so in all matters that related to the sea. Then the young 
man submitted, more or less, to the strange influence which a fine 
craft almost invariably obtains over those that belong to her. He 
did not like the idea of deserting the/‘ Swash,” at the very moment “ 
he w'ould. not have hesitated about punishing her owner for his many 
misdeeds. In a word, Harry was too much of a tar not to feel a . 
deep leluctance to turn against his cruise, or his voyage, however 
. I ' . • ' 


- JACK TIER. ’ 105 

much either might be condemned by his judgment, or even by his 
principles. 

It was quite nine o’clock when the Sehor JMontetalderon and. 
Spike returned from burying the dead. No sooner did the last put 
his foot on the deck of his own vessel,'than he felt the fall of one of 
the purchases which Jiad been employed in raising the schooner, it 
was so far slack as ro satisfy him that the latter now ^oated by her 
own buoyancy, though It might be well to let all stand until morn' 
ing, for the purposes of security. Thus apprised of the condition 
of the two vessels, he gave the welcome order to “ knock ofi: for the 
night.” 

CHAPTER VI. 

At the piping of all hands, 

When the judgment signal’s spread — 
t When the islands and the land, 

And the seas give up their dead. 

And the south and the north shall come; 

' When the sinner is dismayed. 

And the just man is afraid, 

Then heaven be thy aid. 

Poor Tom. 

Brainard. 

The people had now a cessation from their toil. Of all the labor 
known to sea- faring men, that of pumping is usually thought to be 
the most severe. Those who work at it have to be relieved every 
minute, and it is only by having gangs to succeed each other, that 
the duly can be done at all with anything like steadiness. In the 
present instance it is true that the people of the “Swash” were 
sustained by the love of gold, but glad enough* were they when 
Mnlford called out to them to “ knockoff, and turn in for the night.” 
It was high time this summons should be made, for not only^were 
the people excessively wearied, but the customary hours of labor 
. were so far spent, that the light of the moon had some time before 
begun to blend with the little left by the parting sun. Glad enough 
were all hands to quit the toil; and two minutes were scarcely 
elapsed ere most of the crew bad thrown themselves down, and were 
buried in deep sleep. Even Spike and Mulford took the rest they 
needed, the cook alone being left to look out for the changes in the 
weather. In a word, everybody but this idler was exhausted with 
pumping and bailing, and even gold had lost its power to charm, 
until nature was recruited by rest. 

The excitement produced by the scenes through which fhey had 
so lately passed, ca,used the females to sleep, soundlj’-, too. The 
deathlike stillness which pervaded the vessel contributed to their 
rest, and Rose never woke, from the. first few minutes after her head 
was on her pillow, until near four in the morning. The deep quiet 
seemed ominous to one who bad so lately witnessed the calm which 
precedes the tornado, and she arose. In that low latitude and 
warm season, few clothes were necessary, and onr heroine was on 
deck in a very few minutes. Here she. found the same gravelike 
sleep pervading everythinir. There was not a breath of air, and the 
ocean seemed to be in one of its profoundest slupibers. The hard 


106 


JACK TIER. 


breathing of Spike could be heard through the open windows of hfs 
state-room, and this was positively the only sound that '^as audible.- 
The common men, Mho lay scattered about the decks, more espe- 
cially from the mainmast forward, seemed to be so many logs, and 
from Miiltord no breathing was heard. 

The morning was neither very dark nor very light, it being easy 
to distinguish objects that were near, while those at a distance were 
necessarily lost in obscurity. Availing herself of the circumstance, 
Rose went as far as the gangwa^^ to ascertain if the cook were at 
his post. She saw him lying near his galle}^ in as profound a sleep 
as any of the crew. This she felt to be wrong, and she felt alarmed, 
though she knew not why. Perhaps it was the consciousness of 
being the only person up and awake at that hour of deep^t night, 
in a vessel so situated as the “ Swash,” and in a climate in which 
hunicaneS seem to be the natural offspring of the air. Some one 
must be aroused, and her tastes, feelings, and judgment all pointed 
to Harry Mull Old as the person she ought to aM^aken. He slept ha- 
bitually in hisclotlies— the lightest summer dress of the tropics; and 
the window of his little state-room was alwaj^s open for the admis- 
sion of air. Moving lightly to the place. Rose laid her own little, 
soft hand on the arm of the young man, when the latter was on his 
feet in an instant. A single moment only w^as necessary to regain 
his consciousness, whenMulford left the state-room and joined Rose 
on the quarter-deck. 

“ Why am 1 called. Rose,” the young man asked, attempering his 
voice to the calm that reigned around him; ” and why am 1 called 
\)j yoxi?" 

Rose explained the state of the brig, and the feeling which in- 
duced her to av/al^en him. With woman’s gentleness she now ex- 
pressed her regret tor having robbed Harry of his rest; had she re- 
flected a moment, she might have kept watch herself, and allowed 
him to obtain the sleep he must surely so much require. 

But Mul ford laughed at this; protested he had never been av^ak- 
ened at a more favorable moment, and would have sworn, had it 
been proper, that a minute’s further sleep woidd have been too 
much for him. After these first explanations, Multord walked round 
the decks, carefully felt how much strain there was on the pur- 
chases, and rejoined Rose to report that all was right, and that he 
did not consider it necessary to call even the cook. The black was 
an idler in no sense but that of keeping watch, and he had toiled the 
past day as much as any ot the men, though it was not exactly at 
the pumps. 

A long and semi-confidential conversation now occurred between 
Harry and Rose. They talked of Spike, the brig, and her cargo, 
and of the delusion of the captain’s widow. It was scarcely possi- 
ble that puwilei should be so much wanted at the Havana, as to ren- 
der smuggling, at so much cost, a profitable adventure; and Mulford 
admitted, his convictions that the pretended flour was originally in- 
tended for Mexico. Rose related the tenor of the conversation she 
had overheard between the two parties, Don Juan and Don Esteban, 
and the mate no longer doubted that it was Spike’s intention to sell 
the br% to the enemy. She also alluded to what had passed between 
herself and the stranger. 


JACK TIER. 


lor 

Mulford took this occasion to introduce the subject of Jack Tier’s 
intimacy and favor with Kose. He even professed to feel some jeal- 
ousy on account of it, little as there might be to alarm most men in 
the rivalry of such a competitor. Eose laughed, as girls will' laugh 
when there is question of their power over the other sex, and she 
fairly shook her rich tresses as she declared her determination to 
continue to smile on Jack to the close of the voyage. Then, as if 
she had-jsaid more than she intended, she added, with woman’s gen- 
erosity and tenderness — 

“ After all, Harry, you know how much I promised to you even 
before we sailed, and how much more since, and have no just cause 
to dread even Jack. There is another reason, however, th^t ought 
to set your mind entirely at ease on his account. Jack is married,, 
and has a partner living at this very moment, as he does not scruple 
to avow himself.” 

A hissing noise, a bright light, and a slight explosion, interrupted 
the half-laughing girl, and Mulford, turning on his heel, quick as, 
thought, saw that a rocket had shot into the air, from a point close, 
under the bows of the brig. He was still in the act of moving to- 
ward the forecastle, when, at the distance of several leagues, he saw 
the explosion of another rocket high in the aijr. He knew enough of 
the practices of vessels of wai% to feel certain that these were a sig- 
nal and its answer from some one in the service of government. Not 
at all sorr}’’ to have the career of the ” Swash ” arrested, before she 
could pass into hostile hands, or before evil could befall Rose, Mul- 
ford reached the forecastle just in time to answer the inquiry that 
was immediately put to him in the way of a hailf A gig, pulling 
four oars only, with two officers in its stern sheets, was fairly under 
the vessel’s bows, and the mate could almost distinguish the coun- 
tenance of the officer who questioned him, the instant he showed his 
head and shoulders above the bulwarks. 

“ What vessels are these?” demanded the stranger, speaking in 
the authoritative manner ot one who acted for the State, but not 
speaking much above the usual conversational tone. 

“ American and Spanish,” was the answer. “This brig is 
American— the schooner alongside is a Spaniard, that turned turtle 
in a tornado, about six-and-thirty hours since, and on which we have 
been hard at work trying to raise her, since the gale which succeed- 
ed the tornado has blown its pipe out.” 

“ Ay, ay, that’s the story, is it? I did not know what to make of 
you, lying cheek by jowl, in this fashion. Was anybody lost on 
board the schooner?” 

‘‘ All hands, including every soul aft and forward, the super- 
cargo* except ed, who happened to be aboard here. We buried, seven- 
teen ot the bodies this afternoon on the smallest of the Keys that 
you see near at hand, and two this morning alongside of the light. 
But what boat is that, and where are you from, and whom are you 
signaling?” 

” The boat is a gig,” answered the stranger, deliberately, ” and 
she belongs to a cruiser of Uncle tSam’s, that is oft the reef, a short 
bit to the eastward, and we signaled our captain. But I’ll come on 
board you, sir, if you/please.” 

Mulford walked aft to meet the stranger at the gangway, and was 


108 


ji:CK TIER. 

relieved, rather than otherwise, at finding t-hat Spike was already 
on the quarter-deck. Should the vessel ot war seize tlie brig, he 
could rejoice at it; hut so strong were his professional ideas ot duty 
to -the cratt he sailed in, that he did not find it in his heart to say 
aught against her. Were any mishap to befall it, or were justice to 
be done, he preferred that it might be done under Spike’s own super- 
vision, rather than under his. 

“ Call all hands, Mr. Multord,” said Spike, as they met. “ 1 see 
a streak of day coming yonder in the east — let all hands be called 
at once. What strange boat is this we have alongside?” 

ThiSvi^uestion was put to the strangers. Spike standing on his 
gangwa 3 '--ladder to ask it, while the mate was summoning the crew. 
The officer saw that a new person was to be dealt with, and in his 
quiet easy way, he answered, while stretching out his hands to take 
the man -rope — 

“ Tour servant, sir — we are man-of-war’s men, belonging to one 
of Uncle Sam’s craft, outside, and" have just come in to pay you a 
visit of ceremony. I told one, who 1 suppose was your mate, that 
1 would just step on board of you. ” 

” Ay, ay— one at a time, if you please. It’s war time, and 1 can 
not suffer armed boats’ crews to board me at night, without know- 
ing something about them. Come up yourself, if you please, but 
order j'our people to stay in the boat. Here, niuster about this gang- 
way, half a dozen of you, and keep an eye on the crew of this 
strange boat. ’ ’ 

These orders had no effect on the cool and deliberate lieutenant, 
who ascended the brig’s side, and immediately stood on her deck. 
No sooner had he and Spike confronted each other, than each gave 
a little start, 'like that 'of recognition, and the lieutenant spoke. 

“ Ay, a.y — 1 believe 1 knmv this vessel now. It is' the ‘Molly 
Swash,’ of New York, bound to Key West, and a market; and 1 
have the honor to see Captain Stephen Spike again.” 

It was Mr. Wallace, the second lieutenant ot the sloop-ol-w'ar that 
bad botirded the brig in the Mona Passage, and to avoid whom Spike 
had gone to the southward of Jamaica. The meeting was very 77 ial- 
d-propos, but it would not do to betray that the captain and owner ot 
the vessel thought as much as this; on the contrary, Wallace was 
warmly welcomed and received, not only as an old acquaintance, 
but as a very agreeable visitor. To have seen the two as they 
walked aft together, one might have supposed that the me(;ting was 
conducive of nothing but a very mutual satisfaction, it was so much 
like that which happens between those who keep up a hearty ac- 
quaintance. * • 

“ Well, I’m glad to see yotragain. Captain Spike,” cried Wal- 
lace, after the greetings were passed, “ if it be only to ask wfiere 
you flew to, the day we left you in the Mona Passagel* "We looked 
out for . you with all our eyes, expecting you would be down be- 
tween San Domingo and Jamaica, but I hardly think you got by us 
in the night. ^ Our inaster thinks you must have dove, and gone 
past loon-fashion. Do you ever perform that maneuver?” 

“No, we’ve kept above water the whole time, lieutenant,” an- 
swered Spike, heartily; ” and that is more than can be said of the 


JACK TIER. 109 

poor fellow alongside of us. 1 was so much afraid of the Isle of 
Pines, that 1 went round Jamaica.” 

” You might have given the Isle of Pines a berth, and still have 
passed to the north of the Englishmen,” said Wallace, a little dryly. 
‘‘ However, that island is somewhat of a scarecrow, and we liave 
been to take a look at it ourselves. All’s right there, just now. But 
you seem light; what have you done with your fiouf ?” 

” Parted with every barrel of it. You may remember 1 was bound 
to Key West, and a marltet Well, 1 found my market here, in 
American waters.” 

” You have been lucky, sir. This ' emporium ’ does iiot seem to 
be exactly a commercial emporium.” 

“ The fact is, the flour is intended for the Havana; and l fancy 
it is to be shipped for slavers. But 1 am to know nothing of all 
that, you’ll understand, lieutenant. If 1 sell my flour in American 
waters, at two prices, it’s no concern of mine what becomes of it 
a’terward.” 

” tlnless it happen to pass into enemy^s hands, certainly not; and 
you are too patriotic to deal with Mexico, just now, I’m sure. 
lYa 3 % did that flour go down when the schooner turned turtle?” 

” Every barrel of it; but Don Wan, below there, thinks that 
most of it may yet be saved, by landing it on one of those Keys to 
dr 3 ^ Flour, well packed, w^ets in slowly. You see we have some- 
of it on deck.” 

“And who may Don Wan be, sir, pray? We are sent here to look 
after Dons and Donas, j'oii know.”' ■ 

” Don Wan is a Cuban merchant, and deals in such articles as he 
want^. 1 fell in with him among the reefs here, where he was rum- 
maging about in hopes of meeting with a wrack, he tells -me, and 
tliinking to purchase something profitable in that way; but finding 
1 had flour, he agreed to take it out of me at this anchorage, and 
send me away in ballast at once. 1 have found Don Wan Monte- 
falderon ready to pay, and very honorable.” 

Wallace then requested an explanation of the disaster, to the de- 
tails of which he listened with a sailor’s interest. He asked a great 
many questions, all of which bore on the more nautical features of 
the event; and, day having now fairly appeared, he examined the 
purchases and backings of the ” Swash ” with professional nicety. 
The schooner was no lower in the water than when the men had 
knocked off work the previous night; and Spike set the people at 
the pumps and their bailing again, as the most effectual method of 
preventing their making any indiscreet communications to the man- 
of-war’s men. 

About this tiae the relict appeared on deck, when Spike gallantly 
introduced the lieutenant anew to his passengers. It is true he knew 
no name to use, but that was of little moment, as he called the ofii- 
cer “the lieutenant,” and nothing else. 

Mrs. Budd was delighted with this occasion to show off, and she 
soon broke out on the easy, indolent, but waggish Wallace, in a 
strain to surpris? him, notwithstanding the specimen of the lady’s 
.skill from which he had formerly escaped. 

‘‘ Captain Spike is of opinion, lieutenant, that our cast-anchor 
here is excellent, anrl 1 know the value of a good cast-anchor place; 


110 JACK TlEIl. 

for my poor Mr. Budd was a, sea-faring' man, and taught me almost’ 
as much of your noble profession as be knew liiiiiself,” 

“And he taught you, ma’am,” said Wallace, fairly opening his 
eyes, 'Under the influence of astonishment, “ to be Very particular 
about cast- anchor places?” 

“ Indeed lie did. He used to say, that roadsdnstead were never 
as good, for such purposes, as land that’s locked havens, for the an- 
chors would return home, as hc called it, in roads-instead.” 

“ Ye^, ma’am,” answered Wallace, looking very queer at first, 
as if disposed to laugh outritrht, then catching a elance of Rose, and 
changing his mind; “ 1 perceive that Mousieur Budd knew what he 
was about, and preferred an anchorage where he wuis well land- 
locked, and where there was no danger of his anchors coniiug home, 
as so often happens in ^mur open road-steads.” 

“ Y^es, that’s just it! That w^as just his notion! You can not feel 
how delightful it is. Rose, to converse with one that thoroughly 
-understands such subjects! My poor Mr. Budd, did, indeed, de- 
, nounce roads-instead, at all times calling them ‘ savage.’ ” 

“ Savage, aunt!” put iu Rose, hoping to stop the good relict by 
her own interposition—” that is a strange word to apply to an anchor- 
age!” , 

“Not at all, young lady,” said Wallace, gravely. “They are 
often berths, and wild berths are not essentially different from 
wild beasts. Each is savage, as a matter of course.” 

“ 1 knew 1 was right!” exclaimed the widow. “Savage cast- 
anchors come of wild births, as do savage Indians. Oh! the lan- 
guage of the ocean, as my poor Mr, Budd used to say, is eloquence 
tempered by common sense!” 

Wallace .etared again, but his attention was called to other things,, 
just at that moment. The appearance of Don Juan Montefalderon 
y Castro on deck reminded him of his duty, and approaching that 
gentleman, he condoled with him on the grave loss he had sustained. 
After a few^ civil expressions on both sides, Wallace made a delicate 
allusion to the character of the schooner. 

“ Under other circumstances,” he said, “ it might be my duty to 
inquire a little particularly as to the nationality of your vessel, 
senor, for we are at war wdtii the Mexicans, as you doubtless know. ” 

“Certainly,” answered Don Juan, with an unmoved air and 
great politeness of manner, ‘ tiiough it would be out of my power 
to satisfy you. Everything was lost in the schooner, and I nave not 
a paper of any sort to show you. It it be your pleasure to make a 
prize of a vessel in this situation, certainly it is in your power to do 
it. A few^ barrels of wet flour are scarce worth disputing about.” 

Wallace now seemed a little ashamed, the mng froid of the other 
throwing dust in his eyes, and he was in a hurry to change the sub- 
ject. Senor Don Juan was very jcivilly condoled with again, and he 
was made to repeat the incidents of the loss, as if Jiis auditor took a 
deep interest in wdiat he said, but no further hint was given touch- 
ing the nationality of the vessel. The lieutenant’s ta6t let him see 
that Benor Montefalderon was a person of very different caliber 
from Spike,^ as well as of different habits; and lie did not choose to 
indulge in the quiet irony that formed so large an ingredient in his 
own character, with this new hcquainlance. He spoke Spanish 


JACK TIEK. ^ 


111 


himself, with tolerable fluency, and a conversation now occurred 
between the two, which w’as maintained for some time with spirit 
and a very manifest courtesy. 

This dialogue between Wallace and the Spaniard gave ^pike a 
little leisure for reflection. As the day advanced the cruiser came 
more and more plainly in view, and his first business was to take a 
good survey of lier. She might have been three leagues distant, but 
approaching with a very light breeze, at the rate ot somelhincr less 
than two knots in the hour. Unless there was some one on board 
her who was acquainted with the channels of the Dry Tortugas, 
Spike felt little apprehension of lh6 ship’s getting very near to 
him; but he very well understood that, with the sort of artillery that 
was in modern use among vessels of war, he would hardly be safe 
could the cruiser get within a league. That near Uncle Sam’s craft 
might certainly come without encountering the hazards of the 
channels, and within that distance slie would be likely to get in the 
course ot the morning shoulti he have the complaisance to wait for 
her. He determined, therefore, not to be guilty of that act of folly. 

All this time the business of lightening the schooner proceeded. 
Although Mulford earnestly wished that the man-of-war might get 
an accurate notion of the true character and objects of the brig, be 
could not prevail on himself to become an informer. In order to 
avoid the temptation so to do, he exerted himself in keeping the 
men at their tasks, and never before had pumping and bailing’beem 
carried on with more spirit. The schooner soon floated of herself, 
and the purchases which led to the “ Swash ” were removed. Near 
a hundred more barrels of the flour had been taken out of the hold 
of the Spanish craft, and had been struck on the deck of the brig, 
or sent to the Key by means of the boats. This nmde a material 
change in the buoyancy of the vessel, and enabled the bailinc: to go 
on with greater facility. The pumps were never idle, but two small 
streams of water were running the whole of the time toward the 
scuppers, and through them into the sea. 

A t length the men were ordered to knock off, and to get their 
breakfasts. I’his appeared to arouse Wallace, who had been chat- 
ting, quite agreeably to himself, with Rose, and seemed reluctant to 
depart, but who now became sensible that, be was neglecting bis 
duty. He called aw^ay his boat’s crew, and took a civil leave of the 
passengers; after which he went over the side. The gig was some 
little distance from the “ Swash,” when Wallace rose and asked to 
see Spike, with whom he had a word to say at parting. 

” 1 will soon return.” he said, ” and bring you forty or fifty fresh 
men, who will make light work with your wreck, lam certain our 
commander will consent to my doing so, and will gladly send on 
board vou two or three boat’s crews.” 

” If I’ll let him,” muttered Spike between liis teeth, ‘'1 shall be 
a poor, miserable cast-anchor devil, that’s all.” 

To Wallace, however, hp expressed his hearty acknowledgments; 
begged him not to be in a hurry, as the worst was now over, and 
(he row was still a long one. It be got back tow^ard evening it 
would be all in good time. Wallace waved his hand, and the gig 
glided away. As for Spike, he sat down on the plank-sheer where 
he had stood, and remained there ruminating intently for two or 


112 


JACK TIES. 


three minutes. When he descended to the deck his mind was fully 
made up. His first act wns to give some private orders to the boat- 
swain, alter which he withdrew to the cal)in, whither he summoned 
Tier, without delay. , 

“Jack,” commenced the captain, using very little circumlocu- 
tion in opening his mind, “ you and I are old shipmates, and ought 
to be old triends, though 1 think your natur’ has undergone some 
changes since we last met. Twenty years ago there was no man in 
the ship on whom 1 could so certainly depend as on Jack Tier; now, 
you seem given up altogether to the women. Your mind has 
changed even more than your body.” 

“ Time does that for all of us. Captain Spike,” returned Tier 
coolly, “lam not what I used to be, I’ll own, nor are you your- 
self, for that matter. When 1 saw you last, noble captain, you 
were a handsome man of forty, and could go aloft with any youngster 
• in the brig; but, now, you’re heavy, and not over active.” 

“ l! IS 6t a bit of change has taken place in me tor the last thirty 
years, 1 defy any man to show to the contrary. But that’s neither 
here nor there; you are no young woman, jack, that 1 need be 
boasting of my health and beauty before you. 1 want a bit of real 
sarvice from you, and want it done in old-times fashion; and 1 
mean to pay for it in old-times fashion, too.” 

As Spike concluded, he put into Tier’s hand one of the doubloons 
that he had received from Senor Montefalderon, in payment for the 
powder. The doubloons, for which so much pumping and bailing 
Were then in process, were still beneath the waters of 'the gulf. 

“Ay, ay, sir,” returned Jack, smiling and pocketing the gold, 
with a wink of the eye and a knowing look; “ this does resemble 
old times sum’at, 1 now begin to Know Captain Spike, my old 
commander, again, and see that he’s more like himself than-. I had 
just thought him. What am 1 to do for this, sir? Speak plain, 
that 1 may be sartain to steer the true course.” 

“ Oh, just a trifle. Jack — nothing that will break up the ground- 
tier of your wits, my old shipmate. You see the state of the brig, 
and know that she is in no condition tor ladies.” 

“ ’T would have been better all round, sir, had they never come 
aboard at all,” answered''Jack, looking dark. 

Spike was surprised, but he was too much bent on his projects to 
heed trifles. 

“You know what sort of flour they’re whipping out of the 
schooner, and must understand that the brig will soon be in a 
pretty litter. 1 do not intend to let them send a single barrel of it 
beneath my hatches again, but the deck and the islands must take 
it all. blow 1 wish to relieve my passengers from the confinement 
this will occasion, and 1 have ordered the boatswain to pitch a tent 
for them on the largest of these here Tortugas; and what I want of 
you, is to muster food and^water, and other women’s knickknacks, 
and go a,shore with them, and make them as comfortable as you caii 
for a few days, or until we can get this schooner loaded and off.” 

Jack Tier looked at his commander as it he would penetrate bis 
most secret thoughts. A short pause succeeded, during which the 
steward’s mate was intently musing, then his countenance suddenly 
brightened; he. gave the doubloon a fillip, and caught it on the palm 


JACK Tli^K. 


113 

of his hand as it descended, and he uttered the customary “ Ay, ay, 
sir,” with apparent cheerfulness. Nothing more passed between 
these two- worthies, who now parted, Jack to niake his arrange- 
ments, and Spike to ” tell his yarn,” as he termed the operation in 
his own mind, to Mrs. Budd, Rose, and Biddy. The widow list- 
'ened complacently, though she seemed halt doubting, half ready to 
comply. As tor Rose, she received the proposal with delight— the 
confinement of the vessel having become irksome to her. The prin- 
cipal obstacle was in overcoming the difficulties made by the aunt, 
Biddy appearing to like the notion quite as much as ” Miss Rosy.” 
As- for the light-house, Mrs. Budd hud declared nothing would in- 
duce her to go there; for she did not doubt the place w'ould soon 
be, if it were not already, haunted. In this opinion she was sus- 
tained by Biddy; and it was the knowledge of this opinion that in- 
duced Spike to propose the tent. 

” Are you sure. Captain Spike, it is- not a desert island?” asked 
the widow: 1 remember that my poor Mr. Budd always spoke of 
desert islands as horrid places, and spots that every one should 
avoid.” 

” WJiat if it is, aunty,” said Rose, eagerly, ” while we haye the 
brig here close at hand? W e shall suffer none ot the wants of such 
a place, so long as our friends can supply us.” 

‘•‘And mcli triends, Miss Rose!” exclaimed Spike, a little senti- 
mentally tor him: ” triends that would undergo hunger and thirst 
themselves, before j’^ou should want tor any comforts.” 

“Do, now. Madam Budd,” put in Biddy in her hearty way. 
“ It’s an island, ye’ll remimber; and sure that’s just what ouid Ire- 
land has ever been, God bless it! Islands make the pleasantest 
residences.” 

“Well, I’ll venture to oblige you and Biddy, Rosy dear,” re- 
turned the aunt, still half reluctant to yield; “ but you’ll remember, 
that if 1 find it all a desert island. I’ll not pass the night on it oii 
any account whatever.” 

With this understanding the party was transferred' to the shore. 
The boatswain had already erected, a sort ot tent, on a favorable 
spot, using some ot the old sails that had covered the flour-barrels, 
not only tor the walls, but for a carpet of some extent also. This 
tent- was ingeniously enough contrived. In addition to the little 
room that was entirely inclosed, there was a sort ot piazza, or open 
veranda, which would enable its tenarits to enjoy the shade in the 
open air. Beneath this veranda a barrel of fresh water was 
placed, as well as three or four ship’s stools, all of wdiich had been 
sent ashore with the materials tor constructing the tent. The boat 
had been going and coming for some time, and the distance being 
short, the “ desert island ” was soon a desert no longer. It is true 
that the supplies necessary to support three women for as many 
days were no great matter, and were soon landed, but Jack Tier 
had made a provision somewhat more ample. A capital caterer, 
he had torirotten nothing within the compass of his means, that 
could coniribute to the comfort of those who had been put espe- 
cially under his care. Long before the people “ knocked off ” for 
their dinners, the arrangements "were completed, and the boatsWairi^ 
was ready to take his leave. 


JACK TIER. 


114 

“ Well, ladies,” said fliat grum old salt “1 can do no more for 
you, as 1 can see. Tliis here island is now almost as comfortable - 
as a ship that lias been in blue water for a month, and 1 don’t know 
hi)w it can be made more comfortabler.” > ^ 

This was only according to the boatswain’s notion of comfort; 
but Rose thanked him for his care in her wunning way, while her 
aunt admitted that, “ for a place that was almost a desert island, 
things did look somewhat promising.” In a few minutes the men 
w'ere all gone, and the islet was left to the sole possession of the 
, three females, hnd their constant companion. Jack Tier. Rose was 
pleased with the novelty of her situation, though the islet certainly 
did 'deserve the opprobrium of being a ” desert island.” There was 
no shade but that of the tent, and hs veranda-like covering, though 
'the last, in particular, was quite extensive. There was no water, , 
that in the barrel and that of the ocean excepted. Of herbage there 
was very little on this islet, and that was of the most meager and 
coarse character, being a long wiry grass, with here and there a few’' 
stiiirted i>ushes. The sand was reasonably firm, however, more 
especially round the shore, and the walking was tar from unpleas- 
ant. Little did Rose know' it, but a week earlier the spot would 
have been next to intolerable to her, on account of the mosquitoes, 
gallinippers, and other similar insects of the family of tormentors; 
but' everything of the sort had temporarily disappeared in the cur- 
rents of the tornado. To do Spike justice, he was aware of this* 
circumstance, or he might have hesitated about exposing females to 
tbe ordinary annoyances of one of these spots. Not a mosquito, 
qr anything of the sort was left, However, all that having gone to 
leewa'rd, in the vortex which had come so near sweeping off the 
Mexican schooner. 

“ This place will do very well, aunty, for a day or two,” cried 
Rose cheerfully, as she returned from a short excursion, and threw 
aside her hat, one made to shade her face from the sun of a warm 
climate, leaving the sea-breeze, that was just beginning to blow, to 
fan her blooming and sunny cheeks. “It is better than the brig. 
The worst piece of land is better than the brig.” 

‘‘Do not say that, Rose— not it it’s a desert island, dear; and 
this is desperately like a desert island; 1 am almost sorry ! ventured 
on if.” 

” tt will not be deserted by us, aunty, until we shall see occasion 
to do so. Why not endeavor to get on board of yonder ship, and 
return to New Tork in her; *ov at least induce her captain to put us 
ashore somewdiere near this, and go home by land? Your health 
never seemed better than it is at this moment; and as for mine, 1 
do assure you, aunty dear, 1 am as perfectly well as 1 ever was in 
my life.” 

-“All from this voyage. 1 knew' it would set you up, and am 
delighted to hear you say as much. Biddy and I were talking of 
you this very morning, my child, and we both agreed that you ^Dere 
getting to be yourself again. Oh, ships, and brigs, and schooners, 
full- jigger or halt-jigger, for pulmonary complaints, say I! My 
poor Mr. Budd always maintained that the ocean- was the cure for^ 
all diseases, and I determined that to sea you should go, the moment 
1 became alarmed for your health.” 


JACK TIER^ 115 

The good widow loved Rose most tenderly, and she was obpgM 
to use her handkerchief to drj’’ the t^ars from her eyes a$ she con- 
cluded. Those tears sprung equally from a past feeline of appre- 
hension, and a present feeling of gratitude. Rose saw this, and she 
tooK a seat at her aunt’s side, touched herself, as she never tailed to 
be on similar occasions, with this proof of her relative's affection. 
At tjhat moment even Harry Multorcl would have lost a good deal 
in her kind feelings toward him, had he so much as smiled at one 
of the widow’s nautical absurdities. At such times. Rose seemed' 
to be her aunt’s guardian and protectress, instead of reversing the 
relations, and she entirely forgot herself the many reasons which 
existed for wishing that she had been placed in childhood, under 
the care of one better qualified than the well-meaning relict of her 
uncle, for the performance of her duties. 

“ Thank you, aunty— thank’ee, dear aunty,” said Rose, kissing 
the widow affectionately. ” I know that you mean the best for 
me, though you are a little mistaken in supposing me ill. 1 do as- 
sure you, dear,” patting her aunt’s cheek, as it she herself had been 
merely a playftil child, ” 1 never was better; and if IJmve been pul- 
monary. 1 am entirely cured, and am now ready to return home.’l 

” God be praised for this. Rosy. Under llis divine providence it 
is all owing to the sea. If you really feel so much restored, how- 
ever, 1 do not wish to keep you a moment longer on a ship’s board 
than is necessary. We owe something to Captain Spike’s care, and 
can not quit him too unceremoniously, but as soon as he is at liberty 
to go into a harbor 1 will engage him to do so, and we can return 
home by laud— unless, indeed, the brig intends to make the home 
voyage herself. ” 

” 1 do not like the brig, aunty, and now we are out of her, I wish 
we could keep out of her. Nor do I like your Captain Spike, who 
seems to rue anything but an agreeable gentleman.” 

“ That’s because you aren’t accustomed to the sea. My poor Mr.' 
Budd had his ways, like all the rest of them; it takes time to get 
acquainted with them. All sailors are so.” 

Rose bent her face involuntarily, but not so low as to conceal -the 
increasing brightness of her native bloom, as she answered— 

” Harry Muiford is not so, aunty dear — and he is every inch a 
sailor.” 

” Well, there is a difference. 1 must acknowledge, though 1 dare 
say Harry will grow every day more and more like all the rest of 
them. In the end, he will resemble Captain Spike.” 

” Never,” said Rose, firmly. 

” You can’t tell, child. 1 never saw your uncle when he was 
Harry’s age, tor 1 wasn’t born till he was thirty, but often and 
often has he pointed out to me some slender, genteel youth, and 
say, ‘ Just such a lad was I at twenty,’ though nothing could be less 
alike, at the moment he was speaking, than they two. We all 
change with our years. Now 1 was once as slender, and almost — 
not quite, Rosy, for few there are that be — but almost as handsome 
as you yourself, ” 

” Yes, aunty, I’ve heard that before,” said Rose, springing up, 
in order to change the discourse; ” but Harry Muiford will never 


116 


JACK TIER. . 

become Jike Stephen Spike. 1 wish we had never known the man, 
clearest aunty.” 

” It was all your own doings, child. He’s a cousin of your most 
intimate friend, and she brought him to the house; and one couldn't 
ofiend Mary Mulford, by telling her we didn’t like her cousin.” 

Rose seemed vexed, and she kept her little foot in motion, patting 
th^ sail that formed the carpet, as girls will pat the ground with 
their feet when vexed. This gleam of displeasure was soon over, 
however, and her countenance became as placid as the^ clear blue 
sky that formed the vault of the heavens above her head. As it to 
atone tor the passing: rebellion of her feelings, she threw her arms 
around her aunt’s neck; alter which she walked away, along the 
beach, ruminating on her present situation, and of the best means 
of extricating their party from the powder of Spike. 

It requires great familiarity with vessels and tlie seas, for one to 
think, read, and pursue the custoarary train of reasoning on board 
a ship that one has practiced ashore. Rose had felt this embarrass- 
ment during the past month, for the wiiole of which time she had 
scarcely beien in a condition to act up to her true character, suffer- 
ing her energies, and in some measure her faculties, to be drawm 
into the vortex produced by the bustle, novelties, and scenes of the 
vessel and the ocean. But, now she was once more on the land, 
diminutive and naked as was the islet that composed her present 
world, and she found leisure aud solitude for reflection and de- 
-Cision. She was not ignorant of the nature of a vessel of w^ar, oV 
of tiie impropriety ot unprotected females placing themselves on 
board of one; but gentlemen of character, like the officers of the 
^hip in sight, could hardly be wanting in the feelings of their caste; 
and anything was better ihau to return voluntarily wdthin the 
ixrw^er of Spike. She determined within her own mind that volun- 
faril}'- she would not. We shall leave this young girl, slowly wan- 
dering.along the beach of her islet, musing on matters like these, 
while we return to the vessels and the mariners. 

A good breeze had qome in over the reef from the Gulf, throwing 
the sloop-of-w'ar dead to leeward of the brigantine’s anclioragre. 
This w’as the reason that the former had closed so slowly. Still the 
distance between the vessels was so small that a swift cruiser, like 
the ship ot war, would soon have beec alougside of the wreckers, 
blit for the intervening islets and the intricacies of their channels. 
She had made sail on the wflnd, however, and w’as evidently dis- 
posed to come as near to the danger as her lead sliow^cd w'ould be 
safe, even if she did not venture among them. 

Spike noted all these movements, and he took his measures ac- 
cordingly. The pumping and bailing had been going on since the 
appearance ot light, and the flour had^been quite half removed from 
the schooner’s hold. That vessel consequently floated with snfticient 
buoyancy, and no further anxiety was felt on account of her sink- 
ing. Still, a great deal of water remained in her, the cabin itself 
being nearly halt fuH. Spike’s object was to reduce this water 
sufficiently to enable liim to descend into the state-room which Senor 
Montefalderon had occupied, aud bring away the doubloons that 
alone, kept him in the vicinity of so ticklish a neighbor as the 

Poughkeepsie.” Escape was easy enough to one who knew the 

\ ' > 


JACK TIER. ' 117 

passages of the reef and islets; more especially since the wind had- 
so fortunately brought the cruiser to leeward. Spike most appre- 
hended a movement upon him in the boats, and he had almost 
made up his mind, should such an enterprise be attempted, to try 
his hand in beating it ofl with his guns. A good deal of uncertainty* 
on the subject of Mulford’s consenting to resist the recognized au- 
thorities of the country, as well as some doubts of a similar nature 
in reference to two or three of the best of the foremast hands, alone 
I left him at all in doubt as to the expediency of such a course. As 
-rno boats were lowered from the cruiser, however, the necessity of 
resorting to so desperate a measure did not occuri and the duty of 
lightening the schooner had proceeded without interruption. As 
■soori as the boatswain came off from the islet he and the men with 
hmi were directed to take the hands and lift the anchors, of which 
it will be remembered the “Swash” had several down. Even, 
Mulford was shortly after set at work on the same duty; and these 
expert and ready seamen soon had the brig clear of the ground. As 
the schooner was anchored, and floated without assistance, the 
“ Swash ” rode by her. 

Such was the state of things when the men turned-to, after having 
. had their dinners. By this time the sloop-of-war was'within half a 
league of the bay, her progress having been materially retarded by 
the~ set of the current, which was directly against her. Spike saw 
that a collision of some sort or other must speedily occur, and he de- 
termined to take the boatswain with him, and descend into the 
cabin of the schooner in quest of the gold. The boatswain was 
summoned, and Senor Montefalderon repeated in this man’s pres- 
ence the instructions that he thought it necessary for the advent- 
urers to follow, in order to secure the prize. Knowing how little 
locks would avail on board a vessel, w^ere the men disposed to rob 
him, tliat gentleman had trusted more to secreting his treasure than 
to securing it in the more ordinary way. When the story had again 
been told. Spike and his boatswain went on board the schooner, 
and, undressing, they prepared to descend into the cabin. 'The 
.captain paused a ^single instant to take a look at the sloop-of-war, 
anti to examine the state-of the weather. It is probable some new 
impression w’as made on him by this inquiry, for, hailing Mulford, 
he ordered him to loosen the sails, and to sheet home, and hoist the 
fore-topsail. In a word, to “ see all ready to cast off^ and make sail 
on the brig at the shortest notice.” A'Vitli this command he disap- 
peared by the schooner’s compauion-w^ay. 

Spike and his companion found the water in the cabin v^ry much 
deeper than they had supposed. With a view to comfort, the cabin- 
flodr had been sunk much iow*er than is usual on board American 
vessels, and this biought the water up nearly to the armpits of two 
men as s|inrt as our captain and bis sturdy little boatswain. The 
former grumbled a good deal, when be ascertaihed the fact, and 
said something about the mate’s being better fitted to make a search 
in such a place, but concluding with the remaik, that “the man 
who wants ticklish duty well done must see to it himself.” 

The gold-hunters groped tlieir way cautiously about the-cabin for 
some time, feeling for a lirawer, in which they had been told they 
should find the key of beiloi Moiitefalderon’s state-room door. In 


JACK TIER. 


118 

this Spike himself finally succeeded, lie being much better ac- 
quainted with cabins and their fixtures than the boatswain. ' 

“ Here it is, Ben," said the captain; “ now for a dive among the 
Don’s val’ables. Should you pick up anything worth speaking of 
you can condemn it tor salvage, as 1 mean to cast oft and quit the 
wrack the moment we’ve made, sure of the doubloons.” 

“And what will become of all the black flour that is lying 
|ibout, sir?” asKed the boatswain with a grin. 

“It may take care of itself. My agreement will be up as soon aa 
the doubloons are found. If the Don wilLcome down handsomely 
with his share of what will be left 1 may be brought to put the kegs 
we have in the brig ashore tor him somewhere Jn Mexico; but my 
wish is to get out of the neighborhood of that bloody sloop-of-wab 
as soon as possible. ” 

“ She makes but slow headway ag’in the current, sir; but a body 
would think she might send in her boats.” 

“ The boats might be glad to get back ajrain,” muttered Spike. 
“Ay, here is the door unlocked, and we can now fish for the 
money.” 

Some object- had rolled against the state-room door, when the 
vessel was capsized, and there was a good deal of difficulty in 
forcing it open. They succeeded at last, and Spike led the way by 
wading into the small apartment. Here they began to feel about 
beneath the water, and by a very insufficient light, in quest of the 
hidden treasure. Spike and his boatswain differed as to the place 
which had just been described to them, as men will differ even ip the 
account of events that pass directly before their eyes. While thus 
employed the report of a heavy gun came through the doors of the 
cabin, penetrating to the recess in wffiich they were thus employed. 

“ Ay, that’s the beginning of it!” exclaimed Spike. “ 1 wonder 
that the fool has put it off so long.” 

“ That gun was a heavy fellow, Captain Spike,” returned the 
boatswain; “ and it sounded in my ears as if ’twas shotted.” 

'“ Ay, ay, 1 date say you’re right enough in both opinions. They 
put such guns on board their sloops-of-war nowadays, as a fellow 
used to find in the lower batteries of a two-decker only in old times; 
and as for shot, why Uncle Sam pays, and they think it cheaper to 
fire one out of a gun than to take the trouble ot drawing it.” 

“1 believe here’s one of the bags, Captain Spike,” said the boat- 
swain, making a dip, and coming up with one half of. the desired 
treasure in his fist. “ By George, I’ve grabbed him, sir; and the 
other bag can’t be far off.” 

“ Hand that over to me,” said the captain, a litte authoritatively,. 
“ and take a dive for the next.” 

As the boatswain was obeying this order a second gun was beared, 
and Spike thought that the noise made by the near passage of a 
large shot was audible also. lie called out to Ben to “ bear a harrd, 
as the ship seems in ’arnest.” But the head ot the boatswain being 
under water at the time the admonition was thrown away. The 
fellow soon came up, however, puffing like a porpoise that has risen 
to the surface to blow. 

“ Hand it over to me at once,” said Spike, stretching out his un- 
occupied hand to receive the prize; “ we have little time to lose.” 

/ 

/ ' 


JACK TIER. 


119 


“ That’s sooner said than done, sir,” answered the boatswain; ” a 
box has driven down upon the bag, and lhere’s a tight jam. 1 got 
hoiti of the neck of the bag, and pulled like a horse, but it would 
come nohow.” 

“ Show me the place, ahd let me have a drag at it. There goes 
another of his bloody guns!” 

Down went Spike, and the length of tirpe he was under water, 
proved how much he was in earnest. Up he came at length, and 
with no better luck than his companion. He had got hold of the 
bag, satisfied himself by feeling its outside tliat it contained the 
doubloons, and hauled it with all liis strength, but it would not 
come. The boatswain proposed to take a jamming hitch with a 
rope around the neck of the bag, which was long enough to admit 
of such a fastening, and then to apply their united force. Spike' 
assented, and the boatswain rummaged about for a piece of small 
rope to suit this purpose. At this moment Mukord appeared at the 
companion-way to announce the movements on the part of the slpop- 
of-war. He had bifeen purposely tard}’-, in order to give the ship as 
much time as possible; bu*^ he saw by the looks of the men that a 
longer delay might excite suspicion. 

” Below there!” called out the mate. 

” What’s wanting, sir?— what’s wanting, sir?” answered Spike; 

** let’s know at once.” 

‘‘ Have you heard the guns. Captain Spike?” 

” Ay, ay, every grumbler of them. They’ve done no mischief, 

1 trust, Mr. Mulford?” 

“ None as yet, sir; though the last shot, and it vras a heavy fel- 
low, passed just above the schooner’s deck. I’ve the topsail 
sheetexl home and hoisted, and it’s that which has set them at work. 

If T clewed up again, 1 dare say they’d not fire another gun.” 

, ” Clew up nothing, sir, but see all clear for casting off and mak- 
ing sail through the South Pass. What do yOu say, Ben, are 3 ’‘ou 
ready for a drag?” 

” All ready, sir,” answered the boatswain, once more coming up 
to breathe. “ Now for it, sir; a steady pull, and a pull all together.” 
They did pull, but the hitch slipped, and both went down beneath 
the water. In a moment they were up again, puffing a little and 
swearing a great deal. Just then another gun, and a clatter above 
their heads, brought them to a stand. 

” What means that, Mr. Mulford?” demanded Spike, a good deal \ 
startled. ' - 

” It means that the sloop-of-war has shot away the head of Ihe 
schooner’s foremast, sir, and that the shot has chipped a small piece 
out of the heel of our main-topmast — that’s all.” 

Though excessively provoked at the mate’s cool manner of reply- 
ing, Spike saw that he might lose all by being too tenacious about - 
securing the remainder of the doubloons. Pronouncing in. very 
energetic terms on Uncle Sam, and all his cruisers, an anathema 
that we do not care to repeat, he gave a surly order to Ben to 
” knock-off,” and abandoned his late design. In a minute he was 
on deck and- dressed. 

” Cast off, lads'” cried the captain, as soon as on the deck of his 
own brig again, “ and lour of you man that boat. We have got 


120 


JACK TIEE. 


half of your treasure^ Sen or Wan, but have been driven from the 
rest 'of it, as you see. There is the bag; when at ieisui^e we’ll d^ivide 
it, and give the people their share. Mr. Mulford, keep the brig in 
motion, hauling up toward the South Pass, while 1 go ashore for the 
ladies. I’ll meet you just in the throat of the passage.” 

This said, Spike tumbled into his boat, and was pulled ashore. 
As, for Mulford, though he cast many an anxious glance toward the 
islet, he obeyed his orders, keeping the brig standing off and on, 
under easy canvas, but working her up toward the indicated pas- 
sage. 

Spike was met by Jack Tier on the beach of the little island. 

. “ Muster the women at once,” ordered the captain, “ we have 
no time to lose, for that fellow will soon be firing broadsides, and 
his shot now range half a mile beyond us.” 

“ You’ll no more move the widow and her maid, than you’ll move 
,the island,” answered Jack, laconically. 

“,Why should I not move them? Do they wish to stay here aijd 
starve?” 

“ It’s little they think of that. The slobp-of-war no sooner began 
to fire than down went Mrs. Budd on the canvas floor of the tent, 
and set up just such a screaming as you may remember she tried 
her hand at the night the revenue craft fired into us. Biddy lay 
down alongside of her mistress, and at every gun they just scr^med 
as loud as they can, as if they fancied they might frighten off Uncle 
Sam’s men from their duty.” 

“ Duty !— You little scamp, do you call tormenting honest traders 
in this fashion the duty of any man?” 

“ Well, captain, I’m no ways partic’lar about a word or two. 
Their ‘ ways,’ if you like that belter than duty, sir.” 

“ Where’s Kose? Is she down too, screaming and squalling?” 

“ No, Captain Spike, no. Miss Rose is endeavoring, like a hand- 
some young Christian lady as she is, to pacify and mollify her aunt 
and Biddy; and right down sensible talk does she give them.” 

“ Then she at least can go aboard the brig,” exclaimed Spike, with 
a sudden animation, and an expression of countenance that Jack dia 
not at all like. 

“ I ray-y-iher think she’ll wish to hold on to the ol(^ lady,” ob- 
served the steward’s male, a little emphatically. 

“ You be d — d,” cried Spike, fiercely; “ when your opinion is 
wanted. I’ll ask for it. If I find you’ve been setting that young 
woman’s mind ag’in me. I’ll toss you overboard, as 1 would the 
offals of a shark. ” 

“ Young women’s minds, when they are only nineteen, get set' 
ag’in boys of fifty-six without much assistance.” 

“.Fifty-six yourself.” 

“ I’m fifty-three— that I’ll own without making faces at it,” re- 
turned Jack, meekly; “and, Stephen Spike, you logged fifty-six 
your last birthday, or a false entry was made.” 

This conversation did not take place in the presence of the boat’s 
crew, but as the two walked together toward the tent. They were 
now in the veranda, as we have called the shaded opening in front, 
and actually witiiin sound of the sweet voice of Rose, as she ex- 
horted her aunt, in tones a little louder than usual for her to use^ 


JACK TIER. 


121 

t,o manifest more fortitude. Under such circumstances Spike did 
not deem it expedient to utter that which was uppermost in his 
mind, but, turning short upon Tier, he directed a tremendous blow 
directly between his eyes. Jack saw the danger and dodged, falling 
backward to avoid a concussion which he knew would otherwise be 
fearful, coming as'it would from one of the best forecastle boxers 
of his time. The full force of the blow ^Da8 avoided, though Jack 
got enough of it to knock him down, and to give him a pair ot black 
eyes. Spike did not stop to pick the assistant steward up, tor 
another gun was fired at that very instant, and Mrs. Budd and 
Biddy renewed their screams. Instead ot pausing to kick the pros- 
trate Tier, as had just before been his intention, the captain entered 
the tent. 

A scene that was sufficiently absurd met the view of Spike, when 
he found him'selt in the presence ot the females. The widow had 
thrown herself on the ground, and was grasping the cloth of the sail 
on which the tent had been erected with both her hands, and was 
screaming at the top ot her voice. Biddy’s imitation was not exactly 
literals tor she had taken a comfortable seat at the side ot her mis- 
tress, but in the way of cries, she rather outbid her principal. 

“We must be off,” cried Spike, somewhat unceremoniously. 

The man-of-war is blazing away, as if she was a-firin’ minute-guns 
>6ver our destruction, and 1 can wait no longer.” 

“I’ll not stir,” answered the widow — “1 can’t stir — 1 shall be 
shot if 1 go out. ISo, no. no— I’ll not stir an inch.” 

“We’ll be kilt! — we’ll be kilt!” echoed Biddy, “and a wicket 
murther ’twill be in that same man, war or no war.” 

The captain perceived the uselessness of remonstrance at such a 
moment, and perhaps he was secretly rejoiced thereat ; but it is cer- 
tain that he whipped Rose up under his arm, and walked away with 
her, as it she had been a child of two or three years of age. Rose 
did not scream, but she struggled and protested vehemently. It was 
in vain. Already the captain had carried her half the distance be- 
tween the tent and the boat; in the last of which, a minute more 
would have deposited his victim, when a severe blow on the back of 
his head caused Spike to stumble, and permitted Rose to escape 
from his grasp, in the effort to save himself from a fall. Turning 
fiercely toward his assailant, whom he suspected to be one ot his 
boat’s crew, he saw Tier standing within a few yards, leveling a 
pistol at him. 

“Advance a step and you’re a dead man, villain!” screamM 
Jack, his voice almost cracked with rage, and the effort he made to 
menace. 

Spike muttered an oath too revolting for our pages; but it was 
such a curse as none but an old salt could give vent to, and that in 
the bitterness of his fiercest wrath. At that critical moment, while 
Rose was swelling with indignation and -wounded maiden pride, 
almost within leach of his arms, looking more lovely than ever, as 
the flush of anger deepened the color in her cheeks, a fresh and deep 
report from one of the guns ot the sloop-of-war drew all eyes in her 
direction. The belching ot that gun seemed to be of double the 
power of those which had preceded it, and jets of water, that were 
twenty feet in height, marked the course of the formidable missile 


122 JACK TIER. 

that was projected from the pieqe. The ship had indeed, discharged: 
one ot those monster cannons that bear the name of a distinguished 
French engineer, but which should more properly be called by the 
name ot the ingenious officer who is at Jhe headot ourowu ordnance, 
as tliey came originally from his inventive faculties, though some- 
what improved by their European adopter. Spike suspected the 
truth, for he had heard of these “ Pazans,” as he called them, and 
he watched the booming, leajDing pr()gress of the eight-inch shell 
that this gun threw, with the apprehension that unknown danger is 
apt to excite. As jet succeeded jet, each rising nearer and nearer 
to his brig, the interval of time between them seeming fearfully to 
diminish, he muttered oath upon oatti. The last leap that the shell 
made on the water was at about a quarter of a mile’s distance ol' 
the islet on which his people had deposited at least a hundred and 
fifty brurels of spurious flour; thence it flew, as it might be with- 
out an effort, with a grand and stately bound into the very center 
ot the barrels, exploding at the moment it struck. All saw the scat- 
tering of flour, which was instantly succeeded by the heavy though 
slightly straggling explosion of all the powder on the island. A ' 
hundred kegs were lighted, as it might be, in a common flash, and 
a cloud of white smoke poured put and concealed the whole islet 
and all near it. 

'Rose stood confounded, nor was Jack Tier in a much better state 
of mind, though he still kept the pistol leveled, and menaced Spike. 
^But the last was no longer dangerous to any there. He recollected 
that piles of the barrels encumbered the decks of his vessel, and he- 
rhshed-to the boat, nearly frantic with haste, ordering the men to 
pull for their lives. In less than five minutes he was alongside, and 
on the deck of the “ Swash ” — his first order being, “ Tuuiblp every 
panel of this bloody powder into the sea, men. Over with it, Mr. 
Mulford, clear away the midship ports, and launch as much as you 
can through them.” 

Reriionstrance on the part of Senor Montefalderon would have* 
been useless, had he been disposed to make it; but, sooth to say, he- 
was as ready to get rid of the powder as any there, after the speci- 
men he had just witnessed of the power of a Paixhan gun. 

Thus it is ever with men. Had* two or three ot those shells been 
first thrown without effect, as might very well have happened un- 
der the circumstances, none there would have cared for the risk they 
were running; but the chance explosion which had occuried, pre- 
sented so vivid a picture of the danger,, dormant and remote as it 
replly was, as to throw the entire crew of the “ Swash”' into a 
frenzy ot exertion. 

Ror was the vessel at all free from danger. On the contrary, she 
ran very serious lisk of being destroyed, and in some degree, in the 
very manner apprehended. Perceiving that Spike was luffing up 
through one of the passages nearest the reef, which wmuld carry 
him c^ear of the group, a long distance to windward ot the point 
where he could only effect The same object, the commander of the 
sjoop-ot-war opened his. fire in good earnest, hoping to shoot away 
something material on board the Swash,” before she could get: be- 
yond t lie reach of his shot. The courses steered by the two vessels^ 
just at that moment, favored such an attempt, though they made it 


JACK tiER. 


123 


necessarily very short-lived. While the “ Swash” was near the 
wind, the sloop ot- war was obliged to run off to avoid islets ahead 
•of her, a circumstance which, while it brought the brig square with 
the ship’s broadside, compelled the latter to steer on a diverging 
line to the course of her chase. It was in consequence ot these 
facts that the sloop-of-war now opened in earnest, and was soon 
canopied in the smoke of her own fire. 

Great and important changes, as has been already mentioned, 
have been made iu the armaments of all the smaller cruisers within 
the last few years. Half a generation since^ a ship of the rate— we 
do not say of the size — of the vessel which was in chase ot Spike 
and his craft, would not have had it in her power to molest an 
enemy at the distance these two vessels were now apart„ But reccmt 
improvements have made ships of this nominal force fornudable at 
nearly a league’s distance; more especially by means ot their Pajx- 
hans and their shells. 

For some little time the range carried the shot directly over the 
islet of the tent; Jack Tier and Rose, both of whom were watching 
all that passed with, intense interest, standing in the open air the 
whole time, seemingly with no concern for themselves, so absorbed 
was each, notwithstanding all that had passed, in the safety of' the 
brig. As for Rose, she thought only of Harry Mulford, and of the 
danger he was in by those fearful explosions of the shells, Her 
quick intellect comprehended the peculiar nature of the risk that 
was incurred by having thbvflour-bnrrels on deck, apd she could not 
but see the manner in which Spike and his men were tumbling 
them into the water, as the quickest manner of getting rid of them. 
After what had just passed between Jack Tier and his commanuer, 
it might not be so easy to account for his manifest, nay, intense fn- 
t^rpst in the escape of tlie “Swash.” This was Apparent by his 
troubled countenance, by his exclamations, and occasionally by liis 
openly expressed wishes for her safety. Perhaps it was no piore 
than the interest the seaman is so apt to feel in the craft in which 
he has so long sailed, and which to him has been a home, and of 
which Mulfora exhibited so much, in his struggles between feeling 
and conscience — between a true and false duty. 

As for Spike and his people, we have already mentioned their 
efforts to get rid of the powder. Shell after sheirexploded, though 
none very near the brig, the ship working her guns as if in Pc! ion. 
At length the officers of the sloop-ot-war detected a source of error 
in their aim, that is . of very common occurrence in sea-gunnery. 
Their shot had been thrown to ricochet, quartering a low, but very 
regular succession of little waves. Each shot striking' the water at 
an acute angle to its agitated surface, was deflected from a straight 
line, and described a regular curve toward the end of its career; or, 
it might be truer to say, an irregular curvature, for the deflection 
increased as the momentum of the missile diminished. 

No sooner did the commanding officer of the sloop-of-w^ar dis- 
cover this fact— and it was easy to trace the course ot the shots by 
the jets of water they cast into the air, and to see as well as to hear 
the explosions of the shells— than he ordered the guns pointed more 
to windward, as a means of counteracting the departure from the 
straight lines. This expedient succeeded in part, the solid shot 


124 JACK TIER. 

falling much nearer to the brig the moment the practice was re 
sorted to. No shell was fired tor some little time after the new 
order was issued, and Spike and his people began to hope these ter- 
rific missiles Had ceased their anoo^^ance. The men cheered,’ find- 
ing their voices lor the first time since the danger had seemed so 
imminent, and Spike was heard animatinir them to their duty. As 
tor >lulfor’d, he was on the coach-house deck, working the brig, 
the captain having confided to him that delicate duty, the highest 
proof he could furnish of confidence in his seamanship. The hand- 
some young male had just made a half- board, in the neatest man- 
ner, shoving the brig by its means through a most difficult part of 
the passage, and had got her handsomely filled again on the same 
tack, looking right out into open water, by a channel through 
which she could now stand on a very easy bowline. Everything 
seemed propitious, and the sloop-of-war’s solid shot began to drop 
-into the water, a hundred yards short ot the brig. In this state of 
things one ot the Paixhans belched forth its angry flame and sullen 
roar again. TJiere was no mistaking the gun. Then came its mass 
of iron, a globe that would have weighed just sixty-eight pounds, 
had not sufficient metal Ireen left out of its interior to leave a cavity 
to contain a single pound ot power. Its course, as usual, was to be 
marked by its path along the sea, as it bounded, half a mile at a 
time, from wave to wave. Spike saw by its undeviating course 
, that this shell w’as booming terrifically toward his brig, and a ery 
to “ look out for. the shell,” caused the work to be suspended. That 
shell struck the water tor the last time within two hundred' yards 
of the brig, rose dark and menacing in its turious leap, but ex- 
ploded at the next instant. The fragments of the iron were scat- 
tered on each side, and ahead. Of the last, three or tour tell into 
the watdr so near the vessel as to cast their spray on her decks. 

“t)verboard with the rest of the powder!” shouted Spike. 
“ Keep the brig oft a little, Mr. Multord — keep her off, sir; you luff 
too. much, sir.'^’ 

“ Ay, ay, sir,” answered the mate. “ Keep her off, it is.” 

“ There comes the other shell!” cried Ben, but the men did not 
quit their toil to gaze this time. Each seaman worked as if life and 
death' depended on his single exertions. Spike alone watched the 
course of the missile. On it came, booming and hurtling through 
the air, tossing high the jets, at each leap it made from the surface, 

^ striking the water for its last bound, seemingly in a line with the 
shell that had just preceded it. From that spot it made its final 
leap. Every hand in the brig was stayed and every eye w'as raised 
- as the rushing tempest was heard advancing. The mass went mut- 
tering directly between the masts ot the “ Swash.” It had scarcely 
, seemed to go by when the fierce flash of fire and the sharp explo- 
sion followed. Happily for those in the brig, the projectile force 
given by the gun cairied the fragments from them, as in the other 
instance it had brought them forward; else would few have escaped 
mutilation, or death, among their crew. 

The flashing of the fire so near the barrels ot powder that still re- 
mained on their deck, caused the frantic efforts to be renewed, and 
barrel after barrel was tumbled overboard, amid the shouts that 
were now raised to animate the people to their duty. 


JACK TIER. 


135 


“ Luff, ]\Jr. Mulford^-luft you may, sir,” cried Spike. . 

No answer was given. 

“ D’ye hear there, Mr. Mulford?— it is luff you may, sir.” 

“ Mr. Mulford is not aft, sir,” called out the man at the helm— 
‘‘ but luff it is, sir.” 

“ Mr.' Mulford is not aft! Where’s the mate, man? Tell him he 
is wanted.”" 

No Mulford was to be found! A call passed round the decks 
was sent below, and echoed throughout the entire brig, but no sign 
or tidings could be had of the handsome mate. At that exciting 
moment the sloop-of-war seemed to cease her firing, and appeared 
to be securing her guns. 


CHAPTER Yll. 

Thou art the same, eternal sea ! 

The earth has many shapes and forms. 

Of hill and valley, flower and tree; 

Fields that the fervid ^i^oontide warms, 

Or winter’s rugged grasp deforms. 

Or bright with autumn’s golden store: 

‘ Thou coverest up thy face with storms, 

Or smilest serene— but still thy roar 
And dashing foam go up to vex the sea-beat shore. 

' Lunt, * 

We shall now advance the time eight-and-forty hours'. The 
baffling winds and calms that succeeded the tornado had gone, and 
the trades blew in their stead. Both vessels had disappeared, the 
brig leading, doubling the western extremity of the reef, and going 
off before both wind and current with flowing ^he^ets, fully threb 
hours before the sloop of -war could beat up against the latter, to a 
point that enabled her to do the same thing. By that time, the 
“Swash ” was five-and-twenty miles to the eastward, "and conse- 
quently but just discernible, in her loftiest sails, from the ship’s 
royal yards. Still, the latter continued the chase and that even- 
ing both vessels were beating down along the southern margin of 
the Florida Reef, against, the trades, but favored by a three or four 
knot current, the brig out of sight to windward. Our narrative 
leads us to lose sight of both these vessels, for a time, in order to 
return to the islets of the Gulf. Eight-and- forty hours had made 
some changes in and around the haven of the Dry Tortugas. The 
tent still stood, and a small fire that was boiling its pot and its 
kettle, at no great distance from it, proved that the tent was still in- 
habited. The schooner also rode at her anchors, very much as she 
had been abandoned by Spike. The bag of doubloons, however,, 
had been found, and there it lay, tied, but totally unguarded, in the 
canvas veranda of Rose Budd’s habitation. Jack Tier passed antf 
repassed- it with apparent indifference, as he went to and fro be- 
tween his pantry and kitchen, busy as a bee in preparing his noon- 
tide meal for the day. This man seemed to have the islet all to him- 
self, however, no orie else being visible on any part of it. He sung 
his song in a cracked, contralto voice, and appeared to be happy in , 
his solitude. Occasionally he talked to himself aloud, most proba'- 


126 JAClv TIER. 

bly because he had no one else to speak to. We shall record orlb of 
liis recitatives, which came in between the strains ot a very inhar- 
monious air, the words t)f which treated of the seas^ while the 
steward's assistant was stirring an exceedingly savory mess that he 
had concocted 'of the ingredients to be found in the united larders 
of the “ Swash ” and the Mexican schooner. 

“ Stephen Spike is a capital willian!” exclaimed Jack, smelling 
at a ladle filled with his soap— “ a capital willian, 1 call him. To 
thinli. at his time of life, of such a handsome and pleasant 3 ’'Oung 
thing as this Hose Budd; and then to try to get her by underhand 
means, and by making a tool of her silly old aunt. It’s wonderful 
what fools soine old aunts be! Quite wonderful! If 1 was as great 
a simpleton as this Mrs. Budd, I’d never cross my threshold. Yes, 
Stephen Spike is a prodigious willian, as his best friends must 
own! Well, 1 gave him a thump on the head that he’ll not- forget 
this v’y’ge. To think of carryiii’ oft that pretty Rose Budd in his 
very arms, in so indecent a manner! Y'et, the man has his good 
p’ints, if a body could only forget his bad ones. He’s a first-rate 
seaman. How he worked the brig till he doubled the reef, a’ter she 
got into open water; and how he made her wuilk off afore the wdnd, 
with stun’sails alow and aloft, as soon as ever he could make ’em 
draw! My life for it, he’ll tire the legs ot liucle Sam’s man, afore 
he can fetch up with him. For running away, when hard clissed, 
(Stephen Spike hasn’t his equal on ’arth. But, he’s a great w'illian 
r— a ptodigious willian! 1 can not say 1 actually wish liim hanged; 
but 1 would rather have him hanged than see him get pretty Rose 
in his power. What has he to do with girls of nineteen? It the 
•'rascal is one j’-ear old, he’s fifty-six. 1 hope the sloop-of- war will 
find her match, and 1' think she will. The ‘Molly’s’ great 
traveler, and not to be outdone ea 8 il 3 ^ ’Twould be a thousand 
pities so lovely a craft should be cut off in the flower of her days, 
as it might be, and 1 do hope she’ll lead that bloodj'’ sloop on some 
sunken rock. 

“Well, there’s the other l>ag of dubloons. It seems Stephen 
could not get it. That’s odd, too, for he’s great at grabbin’ gold. 
The naan hears his age \Vell; but he’s a willian! 1 wonder wiietber 
he or Multord made that half-board in the narrow channel. It wuis ' 
well done, and Stephen is a perfect sailor; but he says Mulford is 
the same. Nice young man, that Mulford; just fit for Rose, and 
.Rose for him. Pit}'- to part them. Can find no great fault w^ith 
hind, except that he has too much conscience. There’s such as hav- 
ing too much.^as w'ell as too little conscience. Mulford has too 
miich, and Spike has too little. .For him to- think of canyin’ off a 
gal of nineteen! Isay he’s fift 3 ’’-six, if he’s a day. How fond he 
used to be of this very soup! If Pve seen him eat a quart of it, I’ve 
seen Jiim eat a puncheoufui.of it, in my time. What an appetite 
'the man has when he’s had a hard day’s duty on’t! There’s a great 
deal to admire, and a great deal to like in Stephen Spike, but he's 
a reg’lar willian. 1 dare say he fancies himself a smart, jaunty 
youth ag’iu as 1 can remember him; a lad of tw^enty, whicli was 
about his years when 1 first saw him, by thb sign that I was veiy 
little turned of fifteen myself. Spike wa^ cornel}' then, though 1 
acknowledge he’s a willian. 1 can see him now', with his deep blue 


, JACK TIEE. 127 ' 

roundabout, bis bell-mouthed trouseis,- both fine cloth — too fine lor 
such a willian — but fine it was, and much did it become him.” 

Here Jack made a long pause, diirins which, though he may have 
thought much, he said nothing. Nevertheless, he wasn’t idle the 
while. On the contrary, he passed no less than three several times, 
from the fire to the tent, and returned. Each time, in going and 
coming, he looked intently at the bag of doubloons, though he did 
not stop at it or touch it. Some associations connected with Spike’s 
fruitless attempts to obtain it must have formed its principal interest 
with this singular being, as he muttered his captain’s name in pass- 
ing, though he said no more audibly. The concerns of the dinner 
carried him back and forth; and in his last visit to the tent, he 
began to set a small table— one that had been brought for the con- 
venience of Mrs. Budd and her niece, from the brig, and which of 
course still remained on the islet, it was while thus occupied, that 
Jack Tier recommenced Ms soliloquy. ' , . 

“ 1 hope that money may do some worthy fellow good yet. • It’s 
Mexican gold, and that’s inemy's gold, and might be condemned by 
law, I do suppose. Stephen had a’ hankerin’ a’ter it, but he did not 
get it. It come easy enough to Uie next man that tried. That 
Spike’s a willian, and the gold was too good tor him. He has nO' 
conscience at all to think of a gal of nineteen! and one fit for hife 
betters, in the bargain. The time 7tas bgen v.dien Stephen Spike , 
might have pretended to Kose Budd’s equal. That much I’ll ever 
maintain, but that time’s gone; and, what is more, it wilt never 
come again. 1 should like Mulford better if he had a little less 
conscience. Conscience may' do foi Uncle Sam’s ships, but it fs 
sometimes in the way aboard a trading craft. What can a fellovV do 
with a conscience when dollars is to be smuggled oft, or tobacco 
smuggled ashoie? 1 do suppose I've about as much conscience. as 
it is useful to have, and I’ve got ashore in my day twenty thousand 
dollars’ worth of stuff, of one sort or another, if I’ve got ashore the 
valie of ten dollars. But Spike carries on business on too large a 
scale, and many’s the time I’ve told him so. 1 could have for- 
given him anything but this attempt on Rose Budd; and he’s alto- 
gether too old for that, to say nothing of oilier people’s rights. 
He’s an up-and-down willian, and a body can make no more, nor 
any less of him. That soup must be near done, and I’ll hoist the 
signal for grub.” ' 

This signal was a blue-peter,'of which one had been brought shore 
to signal the brig; and with which Jack now signaled the schooner. 
If the reader will turn his eyes toward the last-named vessel, he will 
find the guests whom Tier expected to surround his table. Rose, 
her aunt and Biddy were all seated, under an awning made by a 
sail, on the deck of the schooner, which now floated so buoyantly 
as to show that she had materially lightened since last seen. Such 
indeed was the fact, and he who had been the instrument of produc- 
ing this change, appeared on deck in the person of Mulford, as soOn 
as he was tolil that llie blue-peter of Jack Tier was flying. 

The boat of the light-house, that in which Spike had landed in 
quest of Rose, was laying alongside of the schooner, and sufficients 
ly explained the manner in which the mate had left the brig. This 
boat, in fact, had been fastened astein, in the, hurry of getting from 


128 ' JACK TIER. 

under the sloop-ot-war‘s fire, and Mulford had taken the opportunity 
of the consternation and frantic efforts produced by the explosion 
of the last shell thrown, to descend from his s'tation on the coach- 
house in this boat, to cut the painter, and to let the “ Swash ” glide 
away from him. This the vessel had done with great rapidity, leav- 
ing him unseen under the cover of her stern. As soou as in the 
boat, the mate had seized an oar, and sculled to an islet that was 
within fifty yards, concealing the boat behind a low hummock that 
formed a tiny bay. All this was done so rapidly, that, united to the 
confusion on board the “ Swash,” no one discovered the mate or 
the boat. Had he been seen, however, it is very little probable that 
Spike would have lost a moment of time, in the attempt to recover 
either. But he was not seen, and it was the geUeral opinion' on 
board the ” Swash,” for quite an hour, that her handsome mate had 
been knocked overboard and killed, by a fragment of the shell that 
had seemed to explode almost in the ears of her people. When the 
reef was doubled, however, and Spike made his preparations for 
meeting the rough water, he hove to, and ordered his own yawl, 
which was also towing astern, to be hauled up alongside, in order 
to be hoisted in. Then, indeed, some glimmerings of the truth were- 
shed on the crew, who missed the light-house boat. Though many 
contended that its painter must also have been cut by a fragment of 
the ishell, and that the mate had died loyal to roguery and treason, 
^lulford was much liked by the crew, and he was highly valued by 
Sprike, *on account of his seamanship and integiity, this latter being 
a quality that is just as^necessaiy for one of the captain’s character 
to meet with in those he trusts, as to any other man. But Spike 
thought differently of the cause of Mulford ’s disappearance, from 
his crew. He ascribed it altogether to love for Rose, w^hen, in 
Ruth, it ought in justice to have been quite as much imputed to a 
determination to sail no longer with a man who was clearly guilty 
cf treason. Of smuggling, Mulford had long suspected Spike, 
though he had no direct proof of the fact; but now he could not 
doubt that he was not only engaged in supplying the enemy with 
the munitions of war, but was actually bargaining to sell his brig 
for a hostile cruiser, and possibly to transfer himself and crew 
along with her. 

Ibis scarcely necessary to speak of the welcome Mulford received 
when he reached the islet of the tent. He and Rose had a long 
private conference, the result of which was to let the handsome mate 
'mto the secret of his pretty companion’s true feelings toward him- 
,selt. She had received him with tears, and a betrayal of emotion 
that gave him every encouragement, and now she did not deny her 
preference. In that interview the young people plighted to each 
other their troth. Rose never doubted of obtaining her aunt’s con- 
sent in due time, all her prejudices being in favor of the sea and 
sailors; and should she not, she would soon be her own mistress, 
and at liberty to dispose of herself and her pretty little fortune as 
she might choose. But a cipher as she was, in all questions of real 
moment, Mrs. Budd was not a person liKely to throw any real ob- 
stacle in the way of the young people’s wishes; the true grounds of 
whose present apprehensions were all to be referred to Spilce, his in- 
tentions, and his well-known perseverance. Mulford was convinced 


JACK TIER. 


129 


that the brig would be back in quest of the remaining doubloons, 
as soon as she could get clear ot tne sloop-of- war, though he was 
not allogether without a hope that tlie latter, when she found it im- 
possil)le to overhaul her chase, might also return, in order to ascer 
lain iwhat discoveries could be made in and about the schooner. 
The explosion of the powder, on the islet, must have put the man- 
ot-war’s men in possession of the secret of the real quality of the 
flour that had composed her cargo, and it doubtless had awakened 
all their distrust on the subject of the “ Swash’s ” real business in 
the Gulf. Under all the circumstances, therefore, it did appear 
•quite as probable that one_of the parties should reappear at the scene 
of their recent interview as the other. 

Bearing all these things in mind, Mulford had lost no time in 
completing his own arrangements. He felt that he had some atone- 
irent to make to the country, for the part he had seemingly taken 
in the late events; and it occurred to him, could he put the" schooner 
in a state to be moved, then place her in the hands of the authorities, 
his own peace would be made, and his character cleared. Rose no 
sooner understood his plans and motives, than she entered into them 
with all the ardor and self-devotion of her sex; for the single hour 
of confidential and frank communication which'' had just passed, 
doubled the interest she felt in Mulford, and in all that belongetl to 
him. Jack Tiei was useful on board a vessel, though his want of 
stature and force rendered him less so than was common with sea- 
faring men. His proper sphere, certainly, had been the cabins, 
where his usefulness was beyond all cavil; but he was now very 
serviceable- to Multord on the deck of the schooner. The first two 
days Mrs. Budd had been left on the islet, to look to the concerns 
of the kitchen, while Mulford, accompanied by Rose, Biddy, and 
Jack Tier, had gone ofi to the schooner, and set her pumps in motion 
again. It was little that Rose could do, or indeed attempt to do, at 
this toil; but the puirps being small and easily worked, Biddy and 
Jack were of trreat service. By the end of the second day the pumps 
sucked; the cargo that remained in the schooner, as well as the form 
of her bottom, contributing greatly to lessen the quantity of the 
water that was to be got out of her. 

Then it was that the doubloons fell into Mulford’s hands, along 
with everything else that remained below decks. It was perhaps 
fortunate ihat the vessel was thoroughly purified by her immersion, 
and the articles that were brought on deck to be dried were found in a 
condition to give no great ofl'ense to those who removed them. By 
leaving the hatches off, and the cabin doors open, the warm winds 
ut the trades effectually dried the interior ot the schooner in the 
course of a single night; and when Mulford repaired on board of 
her. on the mornin^r of the third day, he found her in a condition to 
be fitted for his purposes. On this occasion Mrs. Budd had expressed 
a wish to go off to look at her future accommodations, and Jack 
was left on the islet to cook the dinner, which will explain the actual 
state ot things as described in the opening ot this chapter. 

As those who toil usually have a relish for their food, the appear- 
ance ol the bluc-petei was tar from being unwelcome to those on 
board of the schooner. They got into the boat, and were sculled 
ashore by Mulford, who, seaman-like, used only one hand in per- 


130 


JACK TIER. 


forming this service. In a very few minutes they were ail seatecS 
at the little table, which was brought out into the teut-verancla for 
the enjoyment of the breeze. 

“ So far, well,” said Mulford, after his appetite was mainly ap- 
peased; Rose picking crumbs, and aftecting to eat, merely to have 
the air of keeping him company; one of the minor proofs of the 
little attentions that spring from the affections. “ So far, well. 
The sails are bent, and though they might be newer and better, they 
can be made to answer. It was fortunate to find anything like a 
second suit on board a Mexican craft of that size at all. As it is,, 
we have foresail, mainsail, and jib, and with that canvas I think 
we might beat the schooner down to Key West in the course of a 
day and a night. If I dared to venture outside of the reef, it might 
be done sooner even, for they tell me there is a four- knot current 
sometimes in that track; but 1 do not like to venture outside, so 
short-handed. The current inside must serve our turn, and we 
shall get smooth water by keeping under the lee of the rocks. 1 
only hope we shall not get into an eddy as we go further from the 
end of the reef, and into the bight of the coast.” 

” Is there danger of that?” demanded Rose, whose quick intel- 
lect had taught her many of these things, since her acquaintance 
with vessels. 

“ There may be, looking at the formation of the reef and islands, 
though I know nothing of the fact by actual observation. This is 
my first visit in this quarter.” 

“ Eddies are serious matters,” put in Mrs. Budd, “ and my poor 
husband could not abide them. Tides are good things, but eddies 
are very disagreeable.” 

” Well, aunty, I should think eddies might sometimes be as wel- 
come as tides. It must depend, how^ever, very much on the way 
one wishes to go.” 

” Rose, you surprise me! All that you have read and all that you 
have heard, must have shown you the difference. Do they not say 
‘ a man is floating with the tide,’ when things are prosperous with 
him— and don’t ships drop down with the tide, and beat the wind 
with the tide! And don’t vessels sometimes ‘ tide it up to town,' as 
it is called, and isn't it thought an advantage to have the tide with 
you?” 

” All very true, aunty, but 1 do not see how that makes eddies 
any the worse.” 

” Because eddies are the opposite of tides, child. When the tide 
goes one way, the eddy goes another— isn't it so, Harry Mulford? 
You never heard of one’s floating in an eddy.” 

‘‘ Th-at’s what we mean by an eddy, Mrs. Budd,” answered the 
handsome mate, delighted to hear Rose’s aunt call him by an ap- 
pellation so kind and familiar— a thing she had never done pre- 
viously to the intercourse which had been the consequence of their 
present situation. ” Though I agree with Rose in thinking an eddy 
may be a good or a bad thing, and very much like a tide, as one. 
wishes to steer.” 

” You amaze me, both of you! Tides are always spoken of favor- 
ably, but eddies never. If a ship gets ashore, the tide can float her 
off; that I’ve heard a thousand times. Then, what do the news- 


JACK TIER. 


131 


papers say of President , and Governor , and Congressman 

?* Why, that the}'’ all ‘ float in the tide of public opinion,’ 

and that must mean something particularly good, as they are always 
in olBce. No, no, Harry. I’ll acknowledge that you do know 
something about ships; a good deal, considering how young you 
are; but you have something to learn about eddies. Never trust one 
as long as you live.” 

Mulford was silent, and Pose took the occasion to change the dis 
course. 

'* 1 hope we shall soon be able to quit this place,” she said; ” for 
1 confess to some dread of Captain Spike’s return,” 

” Captain Stephen Spike has greatly disappointed me,” observed 
the aunt, gravely. ” 1 do not know that I was ever befOie de- 
ceived in judging a person. 1 could have sworn he was an honest, 
frank, weil-meaning sailor — a character, of all others, that 1 love; 
but it has turned out otherwise.” 

” He’s a villain!” muttered Jack Tier. 

Mulford smiled; at which speech, we must leave to conjecture; 
but he answered Rose, as he e^er did, promptly and with pleasure. 

” The schooner is ready, and this must be our last meal ashore,” 
he said. ” Our outfit will be no great matter; buCif it will carry 
us down to Key 'rV'est, 1 shall ask no more of it. A.s for the re- 
turn of the ‘ Swash,’ 1 look upon it ascertain. She could easily 
get clear of the sloop of-war, with the start she had, and Spike is a 
map that never yet abandoned a doubloon, when he knew where 
one was to be found.” 

” Stephen Spike is like all his fellow-creatures,” put in Jack Tier, 
pointedly. ” Jtle has his faults, and he has his virtues.” 

” Virtue is a term 1 should never think of applying to such a 
man,” returned. Mulford, a little surprised at the fellow’s earnest- 
ness. ” The word is a big one, and belongs to quite another class 
of persons.” Jack'muttered a few syllables that were unintelligible, 
when again the conversation changed. 

pose now inquired of Mulford as to their prospects of getting to 
Key West. He told her that the distance w'as about sixty miles; 
their route lying along the north or inner side of the Florida Reef. 
The whole distance was to be made against the trade-wind, which 
was then blowing about an eight-knot breeze, though, bating ed- 
dies, they might expect to be favored with the current, which 
w^as less strong inside than outside of the reef. As for handling the 
schooner, Mulford saw no great difficult}’’ in that. She was not 
large, and was both lightly sparred and lightly rigged. All her top- 
hamper had been taken down by Spike, and nothing remained but 
the plainest and most readily-managed gear. A fore-and-aft ves- 
sel, sailing close by the wind, is not difficult to steer; will almost 
steer herself, indeed, in smooth water. Jack Tier could take his 
trick at the helm, in any weather, even in running before the wind, 
the time w’hen it is most difficult to guide a craft, and Rose might 
be made to understand the use of the tiller, and taught to govern 
the motions of a vessel so small and so simply rigged, wdien on a 

* AVt suppress the names used by Mrs. Budd, out of delicacy to the individu 
als merationed, who are still living. 


132 


JACK TIER. 


and in smooth water. On the score of managing the schooner,, 
therefore, Mulford thought there would be little cause for appre- 
hension. Should the weather continue settled he had little doubt 
of sately landing the whole party at Key West, in the course of the 
next four-and-twenty hours. Short sail he should be obliged to 
carry, as well on account of the greater facility of managing it, as on 
account of the circumstance that the schooner was now in light bal- 
last trim, and would not bear much canvas. He thought that the 
sooner they left the islets the better, as it would not be long ere the 
brig wmuld be seen hovering around the spot. All these matters 
were discussed as the party still sat at table: and when they left it, 
which was a few minutes later, it was to remove the eflecls they in- 
tended to carry away to the boat. This was soon done, both Jack 
Tier and Biddy proving very serviceable, while Rose tripped back- 
ward and forward, with a step elastic as a gazelle’s, carrying light 
burdens.' In half an hour the boat was ready. “ Here lies the bag 
of doubloons still,” said Mulford, smiling. ” Is it to be left, or 
shall we give it up to the admiralty court at Key West, and put in 
a claim for salvage?” 

” Better leave it tor Spike,” said Jack unexpectedly. ‘‘ Should 
he come back, and find the doubloons, he may be satisfied, and not 
look for the schooner. On the other hand, when the vessel is miss- 
ing. he will think that the money is in her. Better leave it tor old 
Stepnen.” 

” 1 do not agree with you, Tier,” said Rose, though she looked 
as amicably at the steward’s assistant, while she thus opposed hi& 
opinion, as if anxious to persuade rather than coerce. ‘‘ 1 do not 
quite agree with you. This money belongs to the Spanish mer- 
chant; and, as we take away with us his vessel, to give it up to the 
autiiorities at Key West, 1 do not think we have a right to put his 
gold on the shore and abandon it.” 

This disposed of the question. Mulford took the bag, and car- 
ried it to the boat, without waiting to ascertain if Jack had any 
objection; while the whole party followed. In a tew minutes every- 
body and everything in the boat were tiansterred to the dec u of the 
schooner. As for the tent, the old sails of which it was made, the 
furniture it contained, and such articles of provisions as were not 
wanted, they were left on the islet without regret. The schooner 
had several casks of fresh water, which were found in her hold, 
and she had also a cask or two of salted meats, besides several ar- 
ticles of food more delicate, that had been provided by ISenorMonle- 
falderon tor bis own use, and which had not been damaged by the 
water. A keg of Boston crackers were among these eatables, quite 
half of whicii were still iu ii state tOi be eaten. They were Biddy ’& 
delight, and it was seldom that she could be seen when not nib- 
bling at one of them. The bread of the crew was hopelessly dam- 
aged; but Jack had made an ample provision when sent ashore, 
and there was still a hundred barrels of the flour in the schooner’s 
hold. One of these had been hoisted on decK by Multord, and 
opened. The injured flour was easily removed, leaving a consider- 
able quantity fit for the uses of the kitchen. As for the keg of gun- 
powder, it was incontinently committed to the deep. 

Thus provided for, Mulford decided that the time had arrived 


JACK TIER. 


133 


■when he ought to quit his anchorage. Be had been employed 
most ot that morning in getting up the schooner’s anchor, a work of 
great toil to him, though everybody had assisted. He had suc- 
ceeded, and the vessel now rode by a hedge, that he could easily 
weigh by means ot a deck tackle. It remained now, tberetore, to 
lift this kedge and to stand out of the bay of the islets. Ho sooner 
was the boat secured astern, and its freight disposed of, than the 
mate began to make sail. In order to hoist the mainsail well up, 
he was obliged to carry the halyards to the windlass. Thus aided, 
he succeeded without much difficulty. He and Jack Tier and 
Biddy got the jib hoisted by hand; and as for the foresad, that 
would almost set itself. Of course, it was not touched until the 
kedge was aweigh. Malford found little difficulty in lifting the 
last, and he soon had the satisfantion of finding his craft clear of 
the ground. As Jack Tier was every way competent to take charge 
of the forecastle, Mulfoid now sprung aft, and took his own sta- 
tion at the helm. Rose acting as his pretty assistant on the (iflarter- 
deck. 

There is little mystery in getting a fore-and-aft vessel under way. 
Her sails fill almost as a matter of course, and motion follows as a 
necessary law. Thus did it prove with the Mexicair schooner, 
which turned out to be a tast-sailing and an easily-worked craft. 
She was, indeed, arl American bottom, as it is termed, having been 
originali^built for the Chesapeake; and, though not absolutely 
what is understood by a Baltimore clipper, so nearly of that mold 
and nature as to possess some of the more essential qualities. As 
usually happens, however, when a foreigner gets hold of an Ameri- 
can schooner, the Mexicans had shortened her mast and lessened 
her canvas. This circumstance was rather an advantage to Mul- 
ford, W'ho would probably have had more to attend to than he 
wished under the original rig of the craft. 

Everybody, even to the fastidious Mrs. Budcl, was delighted with 
the easy and swift movement ot the schooner. MJilford, now he 
had got her under canvas, handled her without any difficulty, let- 
ting her stand toward the channel through which he intended to 
pass, with her sheets just taken in, though compelled to keep a lit- 
tle off, in onler to enter between the islets. No difficulty occurred, 
however, and in less than ten minutes the vessel was clear of the 
Channels, and in open w'ater. The sheets were now flattened in, and 
the schooner brought close by the wind. A trial of the vessel on 
this modeof sailing was no sooner nvado, than Mulford was induced 
to regret he had taken so many precautions against any increasing 
power ot the wind To meet emergencies, and under the notion 
that he should have his craft more under command, the youn^ man 
had reefed his mainsail, and taken the bonnets off the foresail and 
jib. As the schooner stood up better than he had anticipated, the 
mate felt as all seamen are so apt to feel, when they see that their 
vessels might he made to perform more than is actually got out of 
them. A s' the breeze w^^s fresh, however, he determined not to let 
out the reef; and- the labor of lacing on the bonnets again w^as too 
great to be thought of just at that moment.. 

We all find relief on Getting in motion, when pressed by circum- 
stances. Mulford had been in great apprehension ot the reappear- 


134 


JACK TIER. 


iince ot the '* Swdsh ” all that day; tor it was about the time when 
Spike would be apt to return, in the event ot his escaping from the 
sloop-ot-war, and he dreaded Rose’s again falling into the hands ot 
a man so desperate. Nor is it imputing more than a very natural 
care to the young man, to say that he had some misgivings con- 
cerning himself. Spike, by this time, must be convinced that his 
business in the Gulf was known; and one wdio had openly thrown 
oft his service, as his mate had done, would unquestionably be re- 
garded as a traitor to his interests, whatever might be the relation 
in which he would stand to the laws ot the country. It was proba- 
ble such an alleged olfender would not be allowed to appear before 
the tribunals of the land, to justify himself and to accuse the truly 
guilty, if it were in the power of the last to prevent it. Great, 
therefore, was the satisfaction of our handsome young mate when 
he found himselt again fairly in motion, with a craft under him, 
that glided ahead in a way to prove that she might give even the 
“Swash” some trouble to catch her, in the event of a trial of 
speed. 

Everybody entered into the feelings of Mulford, as the schooner 
passed gallantly out from between the islets, and entered the open 
■water. Fathom by^ fathom did her wake rapidly increase, until it 
could no longer be traced back as far as the sandy beaches that had 
just been left. In a quarter of an hour more, the vessel had 
drawn so far from the land, that some ot the smaller and lowest of 
the islets were getting to be indistinct. At that instant everyftrody 
had come aft, the females taking their seats on the trunk, which, in 
this vessel as in the “ Swash ” herself, gave space and height to the 
caoin. 

“ Well,” exclaimed Mrs. Budd, who found the freshness of the sea 
air invigorating, as well as their speed exciting, “ this is what 1 call 
maritime, Rosy'- dear. This is what is meant by the Maritime 
States, about which we read so much, and which are commonly 
thought to be so important. We are now in a Maritime State, and 
I feel perfectly happy after all our dangers and adventures!” 

“ Yes, aunty, and 1 am delighted that you are happy,” answered 
Rose, with frank affection. “We are now rid ot that infamous 
Spike, and may hope never to see his face more.” 

“ Stephen Spike has his good p’intB as well as another,” said 
Jack Tier, abruptly. 

“ I know that he is an old shipmate of yours. Tier, and that you 
can not forget how he once stood connected with you, and am sorry 
1 have said so much against him,” answered Rose, expressing her 
concern even more by her looks and tones than by her words 

Jack was mollified by this, and he let his feeling be seen, though 
he said no more than to mutter, “ He’s a willian!” wmrds that had 
frequently issued from his lips within the last day or two. 

, “ Stephen Spike is a capital seaman, and that is something in any 
man,” observed the relict of Captain Budd. “ He learned his 
trade from one who was every way qualified to teach him, and it’s 
no wonder he should be expert. Do you expect, Mr. Mulford, to 
beat the wind the whole distance to Key West?” 

It was not possible for any one to look more grave than the mate 
did habitually, while the widow was floundering through her sea- 


JACK TIER. 


135 

terms. Rose had taught him that respect for her aunt was to he 
one of the conditions of hrr own regard, though Rose had never 
opened her lips to him on the subject. 

“ Yes, ma’am,’’ answered the mate, respectfully, “ we are in the 
trades, and shall have to turn to windward, every inch of the wav 
to Key West.” 

” Of what lock is this place the key, Rosy?” asked the aunt, in- 
nocently enough. ” 1 know that forts and towns are sometimes 
called keys, but they always have locks of some sort or other. Now, 
Gibraltar is the key of the Mediterranean, as your uncle has told 
me fifty times; and I have been there, and can understand why it 
should be— but 1 do not know of what lock this West is the keyV’ 

” It is not i hat sort of key which is meant, aunty, at all— but 
quite a different thing. The key meant is an island.” 

” And why should any one be so silly as to call an island a key?” 

” The place where vessels unload is sometimes called a key,” an- 
swered Mulford: “the French called it a qudi, and the Dutch 
kaye. Fsiippose our English word is derived from these. Now, 
alow, sandy island looking somewhat like keys, or wharfs, seamen 
have given them this name. Key West is merely a low island.” 

“ Then there is no lock to it, or anything to be unfastened,” said 
the widow, in her most simple manner. 

” It may turn out to be the key to the Gulf of Mexico, one of 
these days, ma’am. Uncle Sam is surveying the reef, and intends 
to something here, 1 believe. When Uncle Sam is really in ear- 
nest, he is capable of performing great things.” 

Mrs. Budd was satisfied with this explanation, though she told 
Biddy that evening, that “ locks and keys go together, and that the 
person w^ho christened the island to which they were going, must 
have been very w^eak in his upper: story.” But these reflections on 
the intellects of her fellow-creatures w'ere by no means uncommon 
with the worthy relict; and w’e can not say that her remarks made 
any- particular impression on her Irish maid. 

in the meantime, the Mexican schooner behaved quite to Mul- 
ford’s satisfaction. lie thought her a little tender in the squalls, of 
which they had several that afternoon ; but he remarked to Rose, 
who expressed her uneasiness at the manner in which the vessel lay 
over in one of them, that “ she comes down quite easy to her bear- 
ings, but it is hard forcing her beyond them. The vessel needs more 
cargo to ballast her, though, on the whole, 1 find her as still as one 
could exnect. 1 am now glad that 1 reefed, and reduced the head 
sails, though 1 was sorry at having done so when we first came out. 
At this rate of sailing, we ought to be up wdth Key West by morn- 
ing.” 

But that rate of sailing did not continue. Toward evening, the 
breeze lessened almost to a calm again, the late tornado appearing 
to have quite deranged the ordinary stability of the trades. When, 
the sun set, and it "went down into the broad waters of the Gulf a 
flood of flame, there was barely a two-knot breeze, and Mullorit 
had no longer any anxiety on the subject of keeping his vessel on 
her legs. Ilis solicitude, now, was confined to the probability of 
falling in with the “ Swash.” As yet, nothing was visible, either 
in the shape of land or in that of a sail. Between the islets of the 


136 


JACK TIEK. 


Dry Tortugas and the next uearest visible keys, there is a space of 
open watef, of some forty miles in width. The reef extends across 
it, of course; but nowhere does the rock protrude itself above the 
surface of the sea. The depth of water on this reef varies essen- 
tially. In some places a ship of size might pass on to it, if not 
across it; while in others a man could w^ade for miles. There is one 
deep and safe channel— safe to those who are acquainted with it— 
through the center of this open space, and which is sometimes used 
by vessels that wish to pass from one side to the other; but it is 
ever better for those whose business does not call them in that di- 
rection, to give the rocks a good berth, more especially in the night. 

Mulford had gleaned many of the leading facts connected with 
the channels, and the navigation of these w^aters, from Bpike and 
the older seamen of the brig, during the time they had been lying 
at the Tortugas. Such questions and answer’s are common enough 
on board ship, and, as they are usually put and given with intel- 
ligence, one of our mate’s general knowledge of his profession was 
likely to carry away much useful information. By conversations 
of this nature, and b}’^ consulting the charts, which Spike did not 
affect to conceal after the name of his port became known, the 
young man, in fact, had so far made himself master of the subject, 
as to have tolerably accurate notions of the courses, distances, and 
general peculiarities of the reef. When the sun went down, he 
supposed himself to be about half-way across the space of open 
water, and some five-and-twenty miles dead to windward of his 
port of departure. This w’as doing very well for the circumstances, 
and Mulford believed himself and his companions clear of Spike, 
when, as night drew' its veil over the tranquil sea, nothing was in 
sight. 

A very judicious arrangement was made for the watches on board 
the Mexican schooner, on this important night. Mrs. Budd had a 
great fancy to keep a watch, for once in her life, and, after the 
party had supped, and the subject carac up in the natural course 
of things, a dialogue like this occurred: 

“^'Harry must be fatigued,” said Rose, kindly, “ and must w'ant 
sleep. The wind is so light, and the weather appears to be so set- 
tled, that I think it would be better for him to ‘turn in,’ as he calls 
it;” here Rose laughed so prettily that the handsome mate wished 
she w'ould repeat the words—” better that he should ‘ turn in ’ now-, 
and we can call him should there be need of his advice or assist- 
ance. 1 dare say Jack Tier and I can take very good care of the 
schooner until daylight.” 

Mrs. Budd thought it would be no more than proper for one of her 
cxpei ience and-yeai s to rebuke this levity, as well as to enlighten 
the ignorance her niece had betrayed. 

” You should be cautious, my child, how you propose anything 
to be done on a ship’s board,” observed the aunt. “It requires 
great experience and a suitable knowledge of rigging to give mari- 
time advice. Now, as might have been expected, considering your 
years, and the short time you have been at sea, you have made sev- 
eral serious mistakes in wdiat you have proposed. In the first 
place, there should always be a mate on the deck, as 1 have heard 
your dear departed uncle say, again and again; and how can there 


JACK TIER. 


Vd7 

be a mate on the deck, if Mr. Mnlford ‘ turns in,’ as you propose, 
seeing that he’s the only mate we have? Then you should never 
laugli at any maritime expression, for each and a‘ll are, as a body 
might say, solemnized by storms and dangers. That Harry is fa- 
tigued, I think is very probable; and he must set our watches, as 
. they call it, when he can make his arrangements for the night, and 
take his rest as is usual. Here is my watch to begin with; and I’ll 
engage he does not find it two minutes out of the way, though 
yours. Rosy dear, like most girl’s time-pieces, is. I’ll venture' to say, 
nreadfully wrong. Where is your chronometer, Mr. Mulford? 
Let us see how this excellent watch of mine, which was once my 
poor departed Mr. Budd’s, will agree with that piece of yours, 
which 1 have heard you say is excellent.” 

Here was a flight in science and nautical languA,ge that poor Mui- 
ford could not have anticipated, even in the captain’s relict! That 
Mrs. Budd should mistake “ setting the watch ” for ” setting our 
watches,” was not so very violent a blunder that one ought to be 
much astonished at it in her ; but that she should expect to find a 
chronometer that was intended to keep the time of Greenwich, agree- 
ing with a watch that was set for the time of New York, betrayed a 
degree of ignorance that the handsome mate was afraid Rose 
would resent on him, when the mistake was made to appear. As 
the widow held out her own watch for tliQ comparison, however, 
he could not refuse to produce his own. By Mrs. Budd’s watch it 
was pSst seven o’clock, while by his own, or the Greenwich- 
set chronometer, it was a little past twelve. 

” How very wrong your watch is, Mr. iMultord,” cried the good 
lady, ” notwithstanding all you have said in its favor i It’s quite 
five hours too fast, 1 do declare; and now. Rosy dear, you see the 
importance of setting watches on a ship’s board, as is done every 
evening, my departed husband has often told me.” 

‘‘ Harry’s must be what he calls a dog-watch, aunty,” said Rose, 
laughing, though she scarce knew at wliat. 

. ‘‘ The watch goes, too,” added the widow, raising the chronome- 
ter to her ear, “ though ♦t is so very wrong. Well, set it, Mr. Mul- 
ford; then we will set Rose’s, which I’ll engage is half an hour out 
of the way, though it can never be as wrong as yours.” 

Mulford was a good deal embarrassed, but he gained courage by 
looking at Rose, who appeared to him to be quite as much mysti- 
fied as her aunt. For once he hoped Rose w^as ignorant; for noth- 
ing would be so likely to diminish the feeling produced by the ex- 
posure of the aunt’s mistake, as to include the niece in the same 
category. 

“ My watch is a chronometer, you will recollect, Mrs. Budd,” 
said the young man. 

“ 1 know it; and they ought to keep the very best time— that I’ve 
always heard. My poor Mr. Budd had two, and they were as large 
as compasses, and sold for hundreds after his lamented decease.” 

“ They were ship’s chronometers, but mine was made for the 
pocket. It is true, chronometers are intended to keep the most ac- 
curate time, and usually they do; tnis of mine, in particular, would 
not lose ten seconds in a twelvemonth, did I not carry it on my per- 
son.” 


JACK TlEli. 


138 

“ 1 ^ 0 , no, it does not seem to lose anj’, Harry; it only gains/' 
cried Rose, laughing. 

Jlultord was now satisfied, notwithstanding all that had passed on 
a previous occasion, that the laughing, bright-eyed, and quick-wit- 
ted girl at his elbow, knew no more ot the uses of a chionometei 
than her unusually dull and ignorant aunt; and he felt himself re- 
lieved from all embarrassment at once. Though he dared not even 
seem to distrust Mrs. Budd’s intellect or knowledge before Rose, he 
did not scruple to laugh at Rose herself, to Rose. With her there 
was no jealousy on the score of capacity, her quickness being almost 
as obvious to all who approached her as her beauty. 

“ Rose Budd, you do not understand the uses of a chronometer, 
1 see,” said the mate, firmly, “ notwithstanding all 1 have told you 
concerning them.” 

“ It is to keep time, Harry Mulford, is it not?” 

“ True, to keep time — but to keep the time of a particular meiid- 
ian; you know what a meridian means, 1 hope?” 

Rose looked intently at her lover, and she looked singularly love- 
ly, for she blushed slightly, though her smile was as open and am- 
icable as ingenuousness and affection could make it. 

“ A meridian means a point over our heads — the spot where the 
sun is at noon,” said Rose, doubtingly. 

“ Quite right; but it also means longitude, in one sense. If you 
draw a line from one pole to the other, all the places it crosses are 
on the same meridian. As the sun first appears in the east; it fol- 
lows that he rises sooner in places that are east, than in places that 
are further west. Thus it is, that at Greenwich, in England, where 
there is an observator}^ made for i>autical purposes, the sun rises 
about fi ve hours sooner than it does here. All this difference is sub- 
ject to rules, and we know exactly how to measure it.” 

“ How can that be, Harry? You told me this but the other day, 
yet 1 have forgotten it.” 

“ Quite easily. As the earth turns round in just twenty-four 
hours, and its circumference is divided into three hundred and sixt}’- 
equal parts, called degrees, we have only •to divide 360 byM, to 
know how many of these degrees are included in the difference pro- 
duced by one hour of time. There are jusl fit teen of them, as you 
will find by multipl 3 'iug 24 by 15. It follows that the sun rises just 
one hour later, each fifteen degrees of longitude, as you go west, or 
one hour earlier each fifteen degrees of longitude, as 3 'ou go east. 
Having ascertained the difference hy the hour, it is eas 3 ^ enough to 
calculate for the minutes and seconds.” 

“ \es, yes,” said Rose, eagerly, “ 1 see all that — go on.” 

“ How a chronometer is nothing but a watch, made with great 
care, so as not to lose or gain more than a few, seconds in a twelve- 
month. Its whole merit is in keeping time accurately.” 

“ Still 1 do not see how that can be anything more than a very- 
good watch.” 

“ Y’ou will see in a minute. Rose. For purposes that you will 
presently understand, books are calculated for certain meridians, or 
longitudes, aa at Greenwich and Paris; and those who use the books 
calculated for Greenwich, get their chronometers set at Greenwich; 
and those who use the Paris, get their chronometers set to Paris lime. 


JACK TIER. 


139 


'When 1 was last in England, L took this watch to Greenwich, and 
had it set at the observatory by the true solar time. Ever since it 
has been running by that time, -and what you see here is the true 
Greenwich time, after allowing for a second or two that it may have 
lost or gained. ” 

“ All that is plain enough,” said the much interested Kose — ” but 
of what use is it all?” 

“ To help mariners to find their longitude at sea, and thus know 
where they are. As the sun passes so far north and so far south of 
the equator each year, it is easy enough to find the latitude, by ob- 
serving his position at noonday, but for a long time seamen had 
great difficulty in ascertaining their longitudes,. That, too, is done 
% observing the different heavenly bodies, and with greater accu- 
racy than by any other process; but this thought of measuring the 
time is very simple, and so easily put m practice, that we all run by 
it now,” 

‘ Still 1 can not understand it,” said Rose, looking so intently, so 
eagerly, and so intelligently into the handsome mate’s eyes, that he 
found it was pleasant to teach her other things besides how to love, 

” 1 will explain it. Having the Greenwich time in the watch, we 
observe the sun, in order to ascertain the true time, wherever we 
may happen to be. It is a simple thing to ascertain the true time of 
day by an observation of the sun, which marks the hours in his 
track; and when we get our observation, we have some one to note 
the tiihe at a particular instant on the chronometer. By noting the 
hour, minutes, and seconds, at Greenwich, at the very instant we 
observe here, when we have calculated from that observation the 
time here, we have only to add or subtract the time here from that 
of Greenwich, to know precisely how far east or west we are from 
Greenwich, which gives us our longitude.” 

” 1 begin to comprehend it again,” exclaimed Rose, delighted at 
the acquisition in knowledge she had just made. ” How beautiful 
it is, yet how simple! but why do 1 forget it?” 

” Perfectly simple and perfectly sure, too, when the chronometer 
is accurate, and the observations are nicely made. It is seldom we 
are more than eight or ten miles out of the way, and for them we 
keep a lookout. It is only to ascertain the time where you are, by 
means that are easily used, then look at your watch to learn the 
time of day at Greenwich, or'any other meridian you may have select- 
ed, and to calculate your distance, east or west, from that meridian, 
by the difference in the two times.” 

Kose could have listened all night, for her quick mind readily 
comprehended the principle which lies at the bottom of this useful 
process, though still ignorant of some of the details. This time she 
was iletermined to secure her acquisitions, though it is quite proba- 
ble that, woman-like, they w^ere once more lost, almost as easily as 
made. Mulford, however, was obliged to leave her, to look at the 
vessel, before he stretched himself on I he deck, in an old sail; it 
having been previously determined that he should sleep first, while 
the wind was light, and that Jack Tier, assisted by the females, 
should keep the first watch. Rose would not detain the mate, there- 
fore, but let him go his way, in order to see that all was right before 
he took his rest. 


140 


JACK TIEli. 


Mrs. Budd had listened to Mulford’s second explanation of Uie 
common mode of ascertaining the longitude, with all the attention 
of which she was capable: but* it far exceeded the powers of her 
mind to comprehend it, Theie are persons who accustom them- 
selves to think so superficially, ifiat it becomes a painful process to 
attempt to dive into any of the arcana of nature, and who ever turn 
from such investigations wearied and disgusted. Many of these 
persons, perhaps most of them, need only a little patience and per- 
severance to comprehend all the more familiar phenomena, but they 
can not command even that much of the two qualities named to ob- 
tain the knowledge they would fain wish to possess. Mrs, Budd 
did not belong to a division as high in the intellectual scale as even 
this vapid class. Her intellect was unequal to embracing anything 
of an abstract character, and only received the most obvious im- 
pressions, and those quite halt the time it received wrong. The 
mate’s reasoning, therefore, was not only inexplicable to her, but it 
sounded absurd and impossible. 

“ Ros}’- dear,” said the worthy relict, as soon as she saw Mulford 
stretch his fine frame on his bed of canvas, speaking at the same 
time in a low. confidential tone to her niece, ” what was it that 
Harry was telling you a little while ago? It sounded to me like 
rank nonsense; and men will talk nonsense to young girls as I have 
so often warned you, child. You must never listen to their non- 
sense, Rosy ; but remember your catechism and confirmation vow, 
and be a good girl.” 

To how many of the feeble-minded and erring do those offices of 
the church prove a stay and support, when their own ordinary powers 
of resistance would fail them! Rose, however, viewed tlie matter 
just as it was, and answered accordingly. 

‘‘But this was nothing of that nature, nunty*,” she said, “and 
only an account of the mode of finding out where a ship is when out 
of sight of land,in the middle of the ocean. We had the same sub- 
ject up the other day.” 

“ And how did Harry tell you, this time, that was done, my dear?” 

“ By finding the difference in the time of day between two places 
— just iis he did before.” 

“But there is no difference in the time of day, child, when the 
clocks go well.” 

“ Yes, there is, aunty dear, as the sun rises in one place before it 
does in another.” 

“ Rose, you’ve been listening to nonsense now! Remember what 
1 have so often told you about y’^oimg men, and their way of talking. 

1 admit Harry Mulford is a respectable youth, and has respectable 
connections; and since you like one another, you may have him, 
with all my heart, as soon as he gets a tull-jiggered ship, for 1 am 
resolved no niece of my poor dear husband’s shall ever marry a mate, 
or a captain even, unless he has a full jiggered ship under his feet. 
But do not talk nonsense with him. Nonsense is nonsense, though 
a sensible man talks it. As for all this stuff about the time of day, 
you can see it is nonsense, as the sun rises but once in twenty four ' 
hours, and of course there can not be two times, as y’-ou call it.” 

“ But, aunty dear, it is not always noon at London when it is 
noon at Mew York.” 


JACK TIER. 


141 


“ Fiddle- taddle, child! noon is noon, and there are no more two 
noons than two suns, or t^^o times. Distrust what young men tell 
you. Rosy, if you would be safe, though they should tell you you 
are handsome.” 

Poor Rose sighed, and gave up the explanation in despair. Then 
a smile played round her pretty mouth, it was not at her aunt that 
she smiled; this she never permitted herself to do, weak as was that 
person, and weak as she saw her to be; she smiled at the recollec- 
tion how often Miilford had hinted at her good looks — for Rose was 
a female, and had her own weaknesses, as "well as another. But the 
necessit}’' of acting soon drove these thoughts from her mindi and 
Rose sought Jack Tier, to confer with him on the subject of their 
new duties. 

As for Harry Mulford, his head was no sooner laid on its bunch 
of sail than he fell into a profound sleep. There he lay, slumber- 
ing as the seaman slumbers, with no sense of suriounding things. 
The immense fatigues of that and of the two preceding days— tor he 
had toiled at the pumps even long after night had come, until the 
vessel was clear— weighed him down, and Nature w'as now claim- 
iiig her influence, and taking a respite from exertion. Had he been 
left to himself, it is probable the mate would not have arisen until 
the sun had reappeared some hours. 

It is now necessary to explain more minutely the precise condi- 
tiorr, as well as the situation of the schooner. On quitting his port,- 
Mulford had made a stretch of some two leagues in length, toward 
the northward and eastward, when he tacked and stood to the south- 
ward. There was enough of southing in the wind to make his last 
course nearly due south. As he neared tlie reef, he found that he 
fell in some miles to the eastward of the islets — proof that he was 
doing very well, and that there was no current to do him any raa- 
teriabharm, if, indeed, there were not actually a current in his favor. 
He next tacked to the northward again, and stood in that direction 
until near night, when he once more went about. Tiie wdnd was 
now so light that he saw little prospect of getting in with the reef 
again, until the return of day; but as he had left orders with Jack 
T'ier to be called at twelve o’clock at all events, this, gave him no 
uneasiness. At the time when the mate lay down to take his rest, 
therefore, the schooner was quite five-Jind-twenty miles to wind- 
w’ard of the Dry Tortugas, and some twenty miles to the northward 
of the Florida Reef, with the wind quite light at east-south-east. 
Such, then, was tlie position or situation of the schooner. 

As respects her condition, it is easily described. She had but the 
three sails bent-rmaiusail, foresail, and jib. Her topmasts had been 
struck, and all the harrper that belonged to them was below. Tlie 
mainsail w^as single reefed, and tne foresail and jib wmre without 
their bonnets, as has already been mentioned. This was somewhat 
short canvas, but Mulford knew that it would render his craft more 
manageable in the event of a blow. Usually, at that season and in 
that region, the east trades prevailed with great steadiness, some- 
times diverging a little south of east, as at present, and gcneially 
blowing fresh. But, for a short time previously to, nnd ever since 
the tornado, the wind had been unsettled, the old currents appear- 


JACK TIER. 


U2 

iDg to regain their ascendency by fits, and then losing it, in squallSj, 
contrary currents, and even % short calms. 

The conlerence between Jack Tier and Rose was frank and confi- 
dential. 

We must depend 'mainly on you,” said the latter, turning to 
look toward the spot where Mulford lay, buried in the deepest sleep 
tliat had ever gained power over him. “ Harry is sc fatigued! It 
would be shameful to awaken him a moment sc oner than is neces- 
sary.” 

” Ay, ay; so it is always with young women, when they lets a 
young man gain their ears,” answered Jack, without the least cir- 
cumlocution; ” so it is, and so it always will be, I’m afraid. Never- 
theless, men is willians.” 

Rose was not affronted at this plain allusion to the power that 
Mulford had obtained over her feelings. It would seem that Jack 
had got to be so intimate in the cabins, that his sex was, in a meas- 
ure, forgotten; and it is certain that his receni services were not. 
Without a question, but for his interference, the pretty Rose Budd 
would, at that moment, have been the prisoner of Spike, and most 
probably the victim of his design to compel her to marry him. 

” All men are not Stephen Spikes,” said Rose, earnestly, ” and 
least of all is Harry Mulford to be reckoned as one of his sort. 
But we must manage to take care of the schooner the whole night, 
and let Harry get his rest. He wished to be called at twelve, but 
we can easily let the hour go by, and not awaken him.” 

” The commanding officer ought not to be sarved so. Miss Rose. 
What he says is to be done.” 

“ 1 know it. Jack, as to ordinary matters; but Harry left these 
orders that we might have our share of rest, and for no other reason 
at all.. And what is to prevent our having it? We are four, and 
can divide ourselves into two watches; one watch can sleep while 
the other keeps a lookout.” 

‘‘Ay, ay, and pretty watches they would he! There’s Madam 
Budd, now; why, she’s quite a navigator, and knows all about 
weeiin’ and haulin’, and 1 dares to say could put the schooner 
about, to keep her off the reef, on a pinch ; though wdiich way the 
craft would come round, could best be told a’ter it has been done. 
It’s as much as Td undertake myself. Miss Rose, to take care of 
the schooner, should it come on to blow; and as lor you, Madam 
Budd, and that squalling Irishwoman, you’d be no better than so 
many housewives ashore.” 

” We have strength, and we have courage, and we can pull, as 
3 mu have seen. 1 know very well which way to put the helm now, 
and Bidd}’^ is as strong as you are yourself, and could help me all 1 
wished. Then we could always call you, at need, and have your 
assistance. Nay, Harry himself can be called, if there should be a 
real necessity for it, and 1 do wish he may not be disturbed until 
there w that necessity. ” 

It was with a good deal of reluctance that Jack allowed himself to 
be persuaded into this scheme. He insisted, for a long time, that 
an officer should be called at the hour mentioned by himself, and 
declared he had never knowm such an order neglected, ” marchant- 
man, privateer, or man-ot war.” Rose prevailed over his scruples. 


JACK TIER. 


U3 

however, and there was a meeting of the three females to make llie 
final arrangements. Mrs. Budd" a kind-hearted woman, at the 
Worst, gave her assent most cheerfully, though Bose was a little 
startled with the nature of the reasoning with which it was accom- 
panied. 

“ \ou are quite right. Rosy dear,” said the aunt, “ and the thing 
is very easily done. I’ve long wanted to keep one watch at sea; 
just one watch; to complete my maritime education. Your poor 
uncle used to say, ‘ Give my wife but one night-watch, and you’d 
have as good a seaman in her as heart could wish.’ I’m sure I’ve, 
had night-watches enough with him and his ailings; but it seems 
that they were not the sort of watches he- meant. Indeed, 1 didn’t 
know, till this evening, there were so many watches in the world, 
at all. But this is just what 1 want, and just what I’m resolved to 
have. Tier shall command one watch and I’ll commEmd the other. 
Jack’s shall be the ‘ dog-watch,’ as they call it, and mine shall be 
the ‘ middle watch,’ and last till morning. You shall be in Jack’s 
watch, Bose, and Biddy shall be in mine. You know a good deal 
that Jack don’t know, and Biddy can do a good deal I’m rather too 
stout to do. I don’t like pulling ropes, but as for ordering, I’ll 
turn my back on no captain's widow out of York.” 

Rose had her own misgivings on the subject of her aunt’s issuing 
orders on such a subject to any one, but she made the best of neces- 
sity, and completed the arrangements without further discussion. 
Her great anxiety was to secure a good night’s rest for Harry, 
already feeling a woman’s care in the comfort and ease of the man 
she loved. And Rose did love Harry Mulford warml}'- and sincere- 
ly. If the very decided preference with which she regarded him 
before they sailed, had not absolutely amounted to passion, it had 
come so ver}'^ near it as to render that access of feeling certain, 
under the influence of the association and events which succeeded. 
We have not thought it necessary to relate a tithe of the interviews 
and intercourse that had taken place between the handsome mate 
and the pretty Rose Budd, during the month they had been ship- 
mates, having left the reader to imagine the natural course of 
things, under such circumstances. Nevertheless, the plighted troth 
had not been actually given until Harry joined her on the islet, at a 
moment when she fancied herself abandoned to a fate almost as 
serious as death. Rose had seen Mulford quit the brig, had 
watched the mode and manner of his escape, and in almost breath- 
less amazement, and felt how dear to her he had become, by the 
glow of delight which warmed her heart, when assured that he 
could not, would not, forsake her, even though he remained at the 
risk'of life. She was no^v', true to the instinct of her sex, mostly 
occupied in making such a return for an attachment so devoted as 
became her tenderness and the habits of her mind. 

^As Mrs. Budd chose wiiat she was pleased to term the “ middle- 
watch,” giving to Jack Tier and Rose her ” dog-watch,” the two 
last were first on duty. It is scarcely necessary to say, the cap- 
tain’s widow got the names of the watches all wrong, as she got the 
names of everything else about a vessel; but the plan was to divide 
the night equally between these quasi mariners, giving the first half 
to those who vveVe first on the lookout, and the remainder to their 


144 


JACK TICK. 


successors. It soon became so calm, that Jack left the helm, and 
came and sat by Rose, on the trunk, where they conversed confi- 
dentially tor a long time. Although the reader will, hereafter, bo 
enabled to form some plausible conjectures on the subject of this 
dialogue, we shall give him no part' of it here. All that need now 
be said, is to add that Jack did most of the talking, that his past 
life was the principal theme, and that the terrible Stephen Spike, 
he from w^hom they were now so desirous of escaping, was largely 
mixed up with the adventures recounted. Jack found in his com- 
panion a deeply interested listener, although this was by no means 
the first time they had gone over together the same story and dis- 
cussed the same events. The conversation lasted until Tier, who 
watched the glass, seeing that its sands had run out lor the last 
time, announced the hour of midnight. 'This was the moment when 
Mulford should have been called, but when Mrs. Budd and Biddy 
Koon were actually awakened in his stead. 

“ Now, dear aunty,” said Rose, as she parted from the new watch 
to go and catch a little sleep herself, “ remember you are not to 
awaken Harry first, but to call Tier and myself. It would have 
done your heart good to have seen how sweetly he has been sleep- 
ing all this time. 1 do not think he has stirred once his head was 
laid on that bunch of sails, and there he is, at this moment, sleeping 
like an infant!” 

“ Yes,” returned the relict, ” it is always so with your true mari- 
time people. 1 have been sleeping a great deal more soundly, the 
whole of the dog-watch, than 1 ever slept at home, in my own ex- 
cellent bed. But it’s your w'atch below, Rosy, and contrary to the 
rule for you to stay on the deck, after you’ve been relieved. I’ve 
heard this a thousand times.” 

Rose was not sorry to lie down; and her head was scarcely on its 
pillow, in the cabin, before she was fast asleep. As for Jack, he 
found a place amonsr Mulford’s sails, and was quickly in the same 
state. 

To own the truth, Mrs. Budd was not quite so much at ease, in 
her new station, for the first halt hour, as she had fancied to herself 
might prove to be the case. It was a flat calm, it is true; but the 
widow felt oppressed with responsibility and the novelty of her 
situation. Time and again had she said, and even imagined, she 
should, be delighted to fill the very station she then occupied, or to 
be in charge of a deck, in a ” middle-watch.” In this inslanoe, 
however, as in so many others, reality did not equal anticipation. 
She wished to be doing everything, but did not know how to do- 
anything. As for Biddy, she was even worse ofi: than her mistress. 
A month’s experience, or tof that matter a twelvemonth’s, could 
not unravel to her the mysteries of even a schooner’s rigging. Mrs. 
Budd had placed her ” at the wheel,” as she called it, though tlflS 
vessel had no wheel, being steered by a tiller on deck, in the ’long- 
shore fashion. In stationing Biddy, the widow told her that she 
was to play ” tricks at the wheel,” leaving it to the astounded 
Irishwoman’s imagination to discover what those tricks w'ere. 
Failing in ascertaining wdiat might he the nature of her “ tricks at 
the wheel,” Biddy was cohteijt to do nothing, and nothing, under 


JACK TIER. 145 

the circumstances, was perhaps the very b6st thing slie could have 
done. 

Little was required to be done for the first four hours ot Mrs. 
Budd's watch. A.11 that time, Rose slept in her berth, and Mulford 
and Jack Tier on their sail, while Biddy had played the wheel a 
“ trick,” indeed, by lying down on deck, and .sleeping, too, as 
soundly as it she were in the County Down itself. But there was 
to be an end of this tranquillity. Suddenly the wind began to blow. 
At first, the breeze came in fitful pufts, which were neither very 
strong nor very lasting. This induced Mrs. Budd to awaken Biddy. 
Luckily, a schooner without a topsail could not very well be taken 
aback, especially as the head-sheets worked on travelers, and Mrs. 
Budd and her assistant contrived to manage the tiller very well for 
the first hour that these varying puffs of wind lasted. It is true, 
the tiller was lashed, and it is also true, the schooner ran in all 
directions, having actually headed to all the cardinal points of the 
compass, under her present management. At length, Mrs. Budd 
became alarmed. A puff ot wind came so strong, as to cause the 
vessel to lie over so far as to bring the water into "the lee scuppers. 
She called Jack Tier herself, therefore, and sent Biddy down to 
awaken Rose. In a minute, both these auxiliaries appeared on 
deck. The wind just then lulled, and Rose, supposing her aunt 
was frightened at trifles, insisted on it that Harry should be per- 
mitted to sleep on. He had turned bver once, in the course ot the 
night, but not once had he raised his head from his pillow. 

As soon as re-enforced, Mrs, Budd began to bustle about, and to 
give commands, such as they were, in order to prove that she wa& 
unterrified. Jack Tier gaped at her elbow, and by way of some- 
thing to do, he laid his hand on the painter of the “ Swash’s ” boat, 
which boat was towing astern, and remarked that “ some know- 
nothing had belayed it with three half-hitches.” This was enough 
for the relict. She had often heard the saying that ” three half- 
hitches lost the king’s long-boat,” und she busied herself, at once„ 
in repairing so imminent an evil. It was far easier tor the good 
woman to talk than to act; she became what is called “all fingers 
and thumbs,” and in loosening the third half-hitch, she cast off the 
two others. At that instant a puff of wind struck the schooner 
again, and the end of the painter scot away from the widow, who 
had a last glimpse at the boat, as the vessel darted ahead, leaving 
its little tender to vanish in the gloom of the night. 

Jack was excessively provoked at this accident, for he had fore 
seen the possibility of having recourse to that boat yet, in order to 
escape from Spike. By abandoning the schooner, and pulling on 
to the reef, it might have been possible to get out of their pursuer’s 
hands, when all other means should fail them. As he was at the 
tiller, he put his helm up, and ran off, until far enough to leeward 
to be to the westward of the boat, when he might tack, fetch and 
recover it. Nevertheless, it now blew much harder than he liked, 
for the schooner seemed to be unusually tender. Had he had the 
force to do it, he would have brailed the foresail. He desired Rose 
to call Mulford, but she hesitated about complying. 

” Call him— call the mate, T say,” cried out Jack, in a voice that 
proved how much he was in earnest. ” These puffs come heavy, i 


146 


JACK TIER. 


can tell you, and they come otlen, too. Call him — call him, at 
once, Miss Rose, tor it is time to tack, if we wish to recover the 
boat. Tell him, too, to brail the foresail while we are in stays— 
that’s right; another call will start him up.” 

The other call was given, aided by a gentle shake from Rose’s 
hand. Harry was on his ieet in a moment. A passing instant was 
necessary to clear his tacullies, and to recover the tenor of his 
thoughts. During that instant, the mate heard Jack Tier’s shrill 
erv of “ Hard a-lee— get in that foresail — bear a-hand— in with it, I 
say!” 

The wind came rushing and roaring, and the flaps of the canvas 
■were violent and heavy. 

‘‘In with the foresail, 1 say,” shouted Jack Tier. ‘‘She flies 
round like a top, and will be off the wind on the other tack pres- 
ently. Bear a-hand !— bear a-hand! Jt looks black as night to wind- 
ward.” 

Mulford then regained all his powers. He sprung to the foresheet, 
calling on the others for aid. The violent surges produced by the 
wind prevented his grasping the sheet as soon as he could wish, and 
the vessel whirled round on her heel, like a steed that is frightened. 
At that critical and dangerous instant, when the schooner was nearly 
without motion through the water, a squall struck the flattened 
sails, and bowed her down as the willow bends to the gale. Mrs. 
Budd and Biddy screamed a? usual, and Jack shouted until his 
voice seemed cracked, to ‘‘let go the head-sheets.” Mulford did 
make' one leap forward, to execute this necessary office, wdien the 
inclining jilane of the deck told him it was too late. The wind 
faiily howled for a minute, and over wmnt the schooner, the remains 
of her cargo shitting as she capsized, in a way to bring her very 
nearly bottom upward. 

CHAPTER Vlll. 

Ay, fare you well, fair gentleman. 

As You Like It. 

WniLE the tyro believes the vessel is about to capsize at every puff 
of wind, the practiced seaman alone knows when danger truly be- 
sets him in this particular form. Thus it was with Harry Mulford, 
when tlie Mexican schooner went over, as related in the close of the 
preceding chapter. He felt no alarm until the danger actually 
came. Then, indeed, no one there was so quickly, or so thoroughly 
apprised of what the result would be, and he directed all his exer- - 
tions to meet the exigency. While there was the smallest hope of 
success, he did not lessen, in the least, his endeavors to save the 
vessel; making almost superhuman efforts to cast off the fore-sheet, 
so as to relieve the schooner from the pressure of one of her sails. 
But no sooner did he hear the barrels in the hold surging to leeward, 
and feel by the inclination of the deck beneath his feet, that noth- 
ing could save the craft, than he abandoned the sheet and sprung to 
the assistance of Rose.- It was time he did; for, having followed 
him into the vessel’s lee- waist, she w'as the first to be submerged in 
the sea, and w'ould have been hopelessly drowmed, but for Mulford 's 


JACK TIER. 


ur 

timely succor. Women might swim more readily than men, and do 
so swim, in those portions of the world- where the laws oi nature 
are not counteracted by human conventions. Rose Budd, however, 
had received the vicious education which civilized society Inflicts on^ 
her sex, and, as a matter of course, was totally helpless in an ele- 
ment in which it was the design of Divine Providence she should 
possess the common means of sustaining herself, like every other 
being endued with animal life. Not so with Mulford; he swam 
with ease and force, and had no difficulty in sustaining Rose until 
the schooner had settled into her new berth, or in hauling her on 
the vessel’s bottom immediately after. 

Luckily, there was no swell, or so little as not to endanger those 
who were on the schooner’s bilge; and Mulford had no sooner 
placed her in momentary safety at least, whom he prized far higher 
than his own life, than he bethought him of his other companions. 
Jack Tier had hauled himself up to windward by the rope that 
steadied the tiller, and he had called on Mrs. Budd to imitate Ids 
example. It was so natural for even a woman to grasp anything 
like a rope at such a moment, that the widow instinctively obeyed, 
while Biddy seized at random the first thing of the soit that offered. 
Owing to these fortunate chances. Jack and Mrs. Budd succeeded 
in reaching the quarter of the schooner, the former actually getting 
up on the bottom of the wreck, on to whiph he was enabled to float 
the widow, who was almost as buoyant as cork, as indeed was the 
case with Jack himself. All the stern and bows of the vessel were 
underwater, in consequence of her leanness forward and aft; but 
though submerged, she offered a precarious footing, even in these 
extremities, to such as could reach them. On the other hand, the 
place where Rose stood, on the bilge of the vessel, was two or three 
feet above the surface of the sea, though slippery and inclining in 
shape. 

It was not half a minute from the time that Mulford sprung to 
Rose’s succor, ere he had her on the vessel’s bottom. In another half 
minute, he had waded down on the schooner’s counter, where Jack 
Tier was lustily calling to him for “ help!” and assisted the widow 
to her feet, and supported her until she stood at Rose’s side. Leav- 
ing the last in her aunt’s arms, halt distracted between dread and 
joy, he turned to the assistance of Biddy. The rope at which the 
Irish woman bad caught, was a straggling end that bad been made 
fast to the main channels of the schooner, for the support of a fen- 
der, and had been hauled partly in-board to keep it out of the 
water.' Biddy had found no difficulty in dragging herself up to the 
chains, therefore; and had she been content to sustain herself by 
the rope, leaving as much of her body submerged as comported 
with breathing,'‘her task would have been easy. But, like most 
persons who do not know how to swum, the good wmman w as fast 
exhausting her strength, by vain efforts to w'alk on the surface of 
an element that was never made to sustain her. Unpracticed per- 
sons, in such situations, can not be taught to believe that their 
greatest safety is in leaving as much of their bodies as possible be- 
neath the water, keeping the mouth and nose alone free for breath. 
But we have seen instances in which men, who were in danger of 
drowning, seemed to believe it might be possible for them to crawl 


JACK TIER. 


148 

over the waves on their liands jmd knees. The philosophy of the 
contrary course is so very simple, that one would fancy a very 
child might be made to comprehend it; yet, it is rare to find one 
^-unaccustomed to the water, and who is suddenly exposed to its 
dangers, that does not resort, under the pressure of present alarm, 
to the very reverse ct the true means Id save his or her life. 

Mnlford had no difficulty in finding Bridget, whose exclamations 
of “ Murther!” “help!” “he-l-lup!” “ Jasns!” and other similar 
cries led him directly to the spot where she waafast drowning her- 
self by her own senseless struggles. Seizing her by the arm, the 
active young mate soon placed her on her feet, though her cries did 
not cease until she was ordered by her mistress to keep silence. 

Having thus rescued the whole of his companions from immedi- 
ate danger, Mulford began to think of the future. He was seized 
with sudden surprise that the vessel did not sink, and for a minute 
he was unable to account for the unusual fact. On the former 
occasion, the schooner had gone down almost as soon as she fell 
over; but now she floated with so much buoyancy as to leave most 
of her keel and all of her bilge on one side quite clear of the water. 
As one of the main hatches was off, and the cabin-doors and 
booby-hatch doors forward were open, and all were under water, it 
required a little reflection on the part of Mulford to understand on 
what circumstance all their lives now depended. The mate soon 
ascertained the truth, however, and we may as well explain it to the 
reader in our own fashion, in order to put him on a level with the 
young seaman. 

The puff of wind, or little fequall, had struck the schooner at the 
most unfavorable moment for her safety. She had jiist lost her w'ay 
in tacking, and the hull not moving ahead, as happens when a craft 
is thus assailed, with the motion on her, all the power of the wind 
w’as expended in the direction necessary to capsize her. Another 
disadvantage arose from the want ot motion. The rudder, wffiich 
acts solely by pressing against the vrater as the vessel meets it, was 
useless, and it was not possible to luff, and throw the wind from 
the sails, as is usually practiced by fore-and-alt rigged craft, in mo- 
ments ot such peril, in consequence of these united difficulties, 
the shitting ot the cargo in the hold, the tenderness of the craft 
itself, and the force ot the squall, the schooner had gone so far over 
as to carry all three ol the openings to her interior suddenl}’- under 
water, where they remained, held by the pressure of the cargo that 
had rolled to leeward. Had not the water completely covered these 
openings, or hatches, the schooner must have sunk in a minute or 
two, or by the time Mulford had got all his companions safe on her 
bilge. But they were completely submerged, and so continued to 
be, which circumstance alone prevented the vessel' from sinking, as 
the following simple explanation will «how. 

Any person who will put an empty tumbler, bottom upward, into 
a bucket of water, will find that the water will not rise within the 
tumbler more than an inch at most. At that point it is aiTested by 
the resistance of the- air, wffiich, unable to escape, and compressed 
into a narrow compass, foirns a body that the other fluid can not 
penetrate. It is on this simple and familiar principle, that the 
chemist keeps his gases, in inverted glasses, placing them on 


JACK TIEK. 


149 


shelves, slis'htly submerged in water. Thus it was, then, that thg 
schooner continued to float, though nearly bottom upward, and with 
three inleis open, by which the water could and did penetrate. A 
considerable quantity of the element had rushed in at the instant of 
capsizing, but meeting with resistance from the compressed and 
pent air, its progress had been arrested, and the wreck continued to 
float, sustained by the buoyancy that was imparted to it, in contain- 
ing so large a body of a substance no heavier than atmospheric air. 
After displacing its weight of water, enough of buoyanc}' remained 
to raise the keel a few feet above the level of the sea. 

As soon as Mulford had ascertained the facts ot their situation, 
he communicated them to his companions, encouraging them to 
hope for eventual safety. It was true, their situation Avas nearly des- 
perate, admitting that the w^eck should continue to float forever, 
since they were almost without food, or anything to drink, and had 
no means ot urging the hull through the water. They must float, 
too, at the mercy of the winds and waves, and should a sea get up, 
it might soon be impossible for Mulford himself to maintain his 
footing on the bottom of the wreck. All this the young man had 
dimly shadowed forth to him, through his professional experience: 
but the certainty ot the vessel’s not sinking immediately had so far 
revived his spirits, as to cause him to look on the bright side of the 
future, pale as that glimmering of hope was made to appear when- 
ever reason cast one of its severe glances athwart it. 

Harry had no difficulty in making Rose comprehend their precise 
situation. Her active and clear mind understood at once the causes 
of their present preservation, and most of the hazards ot the future. 
It was not so with Jack Tier. He was composed, even resigned; 
but he could not see the reason why the schooner still floated, 

“ 1 know that the cabin-doors were open,” he said, “ and il they 
wasn’t, of no great mailer would it be, since the joints aren’t 
oalked, and the water would run through them as through a sieve, 
I’m afeared, Mr. Mulford, we shall find the wreck goi g from 
under our feet afore long, and when we least wish it, perhaps.” 

” 1 tell you the wreck will float so long as the air remains in its 
hold,” returned the mate, cheerfully. “Do you not see how 
buoyant it is? — the certain proof that there is plenty of air wdthin. 
So long as that remains, the hull must float.” 

‘‘I’ve always understood,” said Jack, sticking to his opinion, 
” that wessels floats by varlne of water, .and not by vartue of air; 
and, that when the water gets on the wrong side on ’em, there’s 
little hope left of keepin’ ’em up.” 

” What has become of the boat?” suddenly cried the mate, ” 1 
have been so much occupied as to have forgotten the boat. In that 
boat we might all of us still reach Key West. I see nothing of the 
boat!” 

A profound silence succeeded this sudden and unexpected ques- 
tion. All knew that the boat was gone, anil all knew that it had 
been lost by the widow’s pertinacity and clumsiness, but no one felt 
disposed to betray her at that grave moment. Idulford left the 
bilge, and waded as far aft as it was at all prudent for him to pro- 
ceed, in the vain hope that the boat might be there, fastened by its 
painter to the schooner’s taflrail, as he had left it, but concealed 


150 


JACK TIER. 


from view by the dailviiess of the night. Not finding what he was 
atter, he returned to his companions, still uttering exclamations ot 
surprise at the unaccountable loss ot the boat. Rose now told him 
that the boat had got adrift some ten or fifteen minutes before the 
accident befell them, and that they were actually endeavoring to re- 
cover it when the squall which capsized the schooner struck them. 

“ And why did you not call me, Rose?” asked Harry, with a little 
of gentle reproach in his manner. ‘‘It must have soon been my 
watch on deck, and it would have been better that I should lase half 
an hour ot my watch below, than that we should lose the boat.” 

Rose was now obliged to confess that the time tor calling him 
had long been past, and that the faint streak of light, which was 
just appearing in the east, was the near approach of clay. This ex- 
planation was made gently, but frankly; and Mulford experienced 
a glow of pleasure at his heart, even in that moment of jeopardy, 
when he understood Rose’s motive for not having him disturbed. 
As the boat was gone, with little or no prospect of its being recov- 
ered again, no more was said about it; and the widow, who had 
stood on thorns the while, had the relief of believing that her awk- 
wardness was forgotten. 

It was such a relief from an imminent danger to have escaped from 
drowning when the schooner capsized, that those on her bottom did 
not, for some little time, realize all the terrors of their actual situa- 
tion. The inconvenience of being wet was a trifle not to be thought 
ot, and, in fact, the light summer dresses worn by all, linen or 
cotton as they were entirely, were soon effectually dried in the wind. 
The keel made a tolerably convenient seat, and the whole party 
placed themselves on it to await the return of day, in order to obtain 
a view of all that their situation offered in the Avay ot a prospect. 
While thus awaiting, a broken and short dialogue o(!Curred. 

” Had you stood to the northward the whole night?” asked Mul- 
ford, gloomily, of Jack Tier; for gloomily he began to feel, as all 
the tacts ot "their case began to press more closely on his mind. 
^ ‘ If so, we must be w^ell off the reef, and out of the track of wreckers 
and turtlers. How had you the wind, and how did you head before 
the accident happened?” v. 

” The wind was light the whole time, and for some hours it was 
nearly calm,” answered Jack, in the same vein. ” I kept the 
schooner’s head to the nor’ard, until 1 thought we were getting to 
far oft our course, and then 1 put her about. 1 do not think we 
could have been any great»distance from the reef, when the boat got 
away from us, and 1 suppose we are in its neighborhood now, for 1 
‘was tacking to fall in with the boat when the craft went over.” 

” To fall in with the boat! Did you keep off to leeward of it, 
then, that you expected to fetch it by tacking?” 

” Ay, a good bit; and 1 think the boat is now aw'ay here to wind- 
ward ot us, drifting athwart our bows.” 

This was important news to Mulford. Could he only get that 
boat, the chances of being saved would be increased a hundred-fold,, 
hay, would almost amount to a certainty; whereas, so long as the- 
wind held to the southw'ard and eastward, the diift of the wreck 
must be toward the open water, and, consequently, so much the 
further removed from the means of succor. Tbe general direction 


JACK TIER. 


151 


of the trades, iu that quarter ot the world, is cast, and should they 
gel round in their old and proper quarter, it would not benefit them 
much; for the reef running south-Mx-st, they could scarcely hope to 
hit the Dry Tortugas again, in their drift, were life even spared 
tliem sufficiently long to -float the distance. Then there might be 
currents, about which Mulford knew nothing with certainty; they 
might set them in any direction; and did they exist, as was almost 
sure to be the case, were much more powerful than the wind in 
controlling the movements of a wrecks 

I'he mate strained his eyes in the direction pointed out by Jack 
Tier, in the hope ot discovering the boat through the haze of the 
morning, and he actually did discern something that, it appeared to 
him, might be the much-desired little craft. If he were right, there 
was ever}" reason to think the boat would drift down so near them 
as to enable him to recover it by swimming. This cheering intelli- 
gence was communicated to his companions, who received it with. 
gratitude,and delight. But the approach of day gradually dispelled 
that hope; the object which Mulford had mistaken for the boat, 
within two hundred j^ards of the wreck, turning out to be a small, 
low, but bare hummock of the reef, at a distance ot more than two 
miles 

“ That is a proof that we are not far from the reef, at least,” 
cried Mulford, willing to encourage those around him all he could, 
and really much relieved at finding himself so near even this isolated 
fragment of terra iirma. ” This fact is the next encouraging thing 
to finding ourselves near the boat, or to falling in with a sail.” 

” Ay, ay,” said Jack, gloomily; “boat or no boat, Mwill make 
no great matter of diflerence now. There's customers that’ll be 
sat tain to lake all the grists you can send to their mill.” 

” What things are those glancing about the vessel?” cried Rose, 
almost in the same breath; ” those dark, sharp-looking sticks— see, 
there are five or six of them! and they move as if fastened to some- 
thing under the water that pulls them about.” 

” Them’s the customers 1 mean. Miss .Rose,” answered Jack, in 
the same strain as that in which he had first spoken; ” they’re the 
same thing at sea as lawyers be ashore, and seem made to live oh 
other folks. Them’s sharks.” 

And yonder is truly the boat!” added Mulford, with a sigh that 
almost amounted to a groan. I'he light had, by this time, so far 
returned as to ‘enable the party not only to see the fins of half a 
dozen sharks, w"hich weie already prowling about the wxeck, the 
almost necessary consequence of Iheirproximity toa reef in that lati- 
tude, but actually to discern the boat drifting down toward them, 
at a distance that promised to carry it past, w"ithin the reach of Mul- 
ford’s powers of swimming, though not as near as he could have 
wished, even under more favorable circumstances. Had their ex- 
tremity been greater, or had Rose begun to suffer from hunger or 
thirst, Mulford might have attempted the experiiiiei>t of endeavor- 
ing to regain the boat, though the chances of death, by means of the 
sharks, would be more than equal to those ot escape; but still fresh, 
and not yet feeling even the heat of the sun ot that low latitude, he 
was not quite goaded into such an act of desperation. All that re- 
mained lor the parly, therefore, was to sit on the keel of the wreck. 


15 ^ 


,IACK TIER. 


and 2 ;aze with longing e.yes at a little object floating past, which, 
once at their command, might so readily be made to save them [rom 
a fate that, already began to appear terrible in the perspective. 
JS early an hour wuas thus consumed, ere the boat was about half a 
mile to leeward, during which scarcely an e 3 ’e was turned from it 
for one instant, or a word was spoken. 

“ It is beyond my reach now!” ISlulfordat length exclaimed, sigh- 
ing heavily, like one who became conscious ot some great and irre- 
trievable loss. ” Were there no sharks, 1 could hardly venture to-, 
attempt swimming so far, with the boat drifting from me at the 
same time.” 

” 1 should never consent to let you make the trial, Harry,” mur- 
mured Rose, ” though it were only half as far.” 

Another pause succeeded. 

‘‘We have now tlie light of day,” resumed the mate, a minute or 
two later, ‘‘and may see our true situation. No sail is in sight, 
and the wind stands steadily in its old quarter. Still 1 do not think 
we leave the reef. ^ There, you may see breakers off here at the 
southward, and it seems as it more rocks rise above the sea, in that 
direction. 1 do not know that our situation would be any the better 
however, were we actually on them, instead ot being on this float- 
ing wreck.” 

The rocks will never sink,” said Jack Tier, with so much em- 
phasis, as to startle his listeners. 

‘‘ 1 do not think this hull will sink until w'e are taken oft it, or 
are beyond caring whether it sink or swim,” returned Mulford. 

‘‘ 1 do not know that, Mr. Mulford. Nothing keeps us up but 
the air in the hold, you sa}'.” 

‘‘Certainly not; but that air will suffice as long as it remains 
there. ’ ’ 

‘‘ And what do you call these things?” rejoined the assistant 
steward, pointing at the water near him, in or on which no one else 
saw anything worthy of attention. 

Mulford, however, was not satisfied with a cursory glance, but 
went nearer to the spot where Tier was standing. Then, indeed, he 
saw to what the steward alluded, and was impressed by it, ihough 
he said nothing. Hundreds of little bubbles rose to the surface of 
the water, much as one sees them rising in springs. These bubbles 
are often met with in lakes and other comparatively shallow waters, 
but they are rarely seen in those of the ocean. The mate understood, 
at a glance, that those he now beheld were produced by the air 
which escaped from the hold of the wreck; in small quantities at a 
time, it was true, but by a constant and increasing process. The 
great pressure of the water forced this air through crevices so min- 
ute that, under ordinary circumstances, they would have proved 
impenetrable to this, as they were still to the other fluid, though 
they now permitted the passage of the former. It miffht take a long 
time to force the air from the interior of the vessel by such meansi 
but the result was as certain as it might be slow. As constant 
dropping will wear a- stone, so might the power that kept the wreck 
afloat be exhausted by the ceaseless rising of these minute air- 
bubbles. 

Although Mulford was entirely sensible ot the nature of this new 


JACK TlKiU 153 

source of dauger, we can not say lie was much afiected by it at the 
moment. It seemed to him far more probable that they must die of 
exhaustion, long before the wreck would lose all of its buoyaucy by 
this slow process, than that oven the strongest of their number could 
survive for such a period. The new danger, therefore, lost most 
of its terrors under this view of the subject, thomrh it certainly did 
not add to the small sense of security that remained, to know that 
inevitably their fate must be sealed through its agency, should they 
be able to hold out for a sufficient time against hunger and thirst, 
it caused Mulford to muse in silence for man 3 ^more minutes. 

“ 1 hope we are not altogether without food,” the mate at length 
said. “It sometimes happens that persons at sea carry jiieces of 
biscuit in their pockets, especially those who keep watch at night. 
The smallest morsel is now of the last importance.” 

At this sugestion, every one set about the examination. Tlie re- 
sult was, that neither Mrs. Budd nor Rose had a particle of lood, 
of any sort, about their persons. Biddy produced from her pockets, 
however, a whole biscuit, a large bunch of excellent raisins that 
she had filched drom the steward’s stores, and fwo apples— the last 
being the remains of some friiit that Spike had procured a month 
earlier in New Yoik. Mulford had half a biscuit, at which he had, 
been accustomed to nibble in his watches; and Jack lugged out, 
along with a small plug of tobacco, a couple of sweet oranges. 
Here, then, was everything in the shape of victuals or drink, that 
oould be found for the use of fivre persons, in all probability for 
many days. The importance of securing it for equal distribution 
was so obvious that Mul ford’s proposal to do so met with a common 
assent. The whole was i)ut in Mi-s. Budd’s bag, and she was in- 
trusted with the keeping of this precious store. 

” It may be harder to abstain from food at first, when we have 
not suffered from its want, than it will become after a little en- 
durance,’' said the mate. “We are now* strong, and it will be 
wiser to fast as long as we convenient!}' can, lo-day, and relieve our 
hunger by a moderate allowance toward evening, than to waste our 
means by too much indulgence at a time when we are strong. 
Weakness will be sure to come if we remain long on the wreck.” 

“ Have you ever suffered in this way, Harry?” demanded Rose, 
- with interest. 

’ “1 have, and that dreadfully. But a merciful Providence came 

to my rescue then, and it may not fail me now. The seaman is ac- 
customed to carry his life in his hand, and to live on the edge of 
eternity.” 

The'truth of this was so apparent as to produce a thoughtful 
silence. Anxious glances w'ere cast around the horizon from time 
to time, in quest of any sail that might come in sight, but uselessly. 
None appeared, and the day advanced without bringing the slightest 
prospect of relief. MuFford could see. by the now almost sunken 
hummocks, that they were slowly drifting along the reef, towaid 
the southward and eastward, a current no doubt acting slightly 
from the north-west. Their proximity to the reef, however, was of 
no advantage, as the distance was. still so great as to render any at- 
tempt to reach it, even on the part of the mate, unavailable. Nor 
would he have been any better off could he have gained a spot on 


154: 


JACK TIER. 


the rocks that was shallow enough to admit of his walking, since 
wading about in such a place would have been less desirable than, 
to be floating where he was. 

The want ot water to drink threatened to be the great evil. Of 
this tne party on the wreck had not a single drop! As the w'armth 
of the day was added to the feverish feeling produced by excitement 
they all experienced thirst, though no one murmured. So utterly 
without means of relieving this necessity did each person know 
them all to be that no one spoke on the subject at all. In fact, 
shipwreck never produced a more complete destitution of all the 
ordinary agents of helping themselves, in any form or manner, than 
was the case here. So sudden and complete had been the disaster 
that not a single article, beyond those on the persons ot the sufferers, 
came even in view. The masts, sails, rigging, spare spars, in a 
word, everything belonging to the vessel was submerged and hid- 
den from their sight, with the exception of a portion of the vessel’s 
bottom, which might be forty feet in length, and some ten or fifteen 
in width, including that which was above water on both sides of 
the keel, though one only ot these sides was available to the females, 
as a place to move about on. Had IVlulford only a boat-hook he 
would have felt it a relief; for not only did the sharks increase in 
number, but they grew more audacious, swimming so near the 
wreck that, more than once, Mulford apprehended that some one 
of the boldest of them might make an effort literally to board them. 
It is true, he had never known of one of these fishes attempting to 
quit his own element in pursuit of his prey; but such things were 
reported, and those around the wreck swam so close and seemed so 
eager to get at those who were on it that there really might be some 
excuse for fancying they might resort to unusual means of effecting 
their object. It is probable that, like all other animals, they were 
emboldened by their own numbers, and were acting in a sort of 
concert, that was govesced by some of the many mysterious laws 
of nature that have still escaped human observation. 

Thus passed the earlier hours ot that appalling day. Toward noon 
Mulford had insisted on the females dividing one of the oranges 
between them, and extracting its juice by way of assuaging their 
thirst. The effect was most grateful, as all admitted, and even Mrs. 
Budd urged Harry and Tier to take a portion of the remaining 
orange; but this both steadily refused. Mulford did consent to 
receive a small portion of one of the apples, more with a view of 
moistening his throat than to appease his hunger, though it had, in 
a slight degree, the latter effect also. As tor Jack Tier, he declined 
even the morsel of apple, saying that tobacco answered his purpose, 
as indeed it temporarily might. It was near sunset when the 
steward’s assistant called Alulford aside, and whispered to him that 
he had something private to communicate. The mate bade him 
say on, as they were out of ear-shot of their companions. 

“I’ve been in situations like this afore,” said Jack, “and one 
Tarns exper’ence by exper’ence. 1 know how cruel it is on the 
feelin’s to have the hopes disapp’inted in these cases, and there- 
fore shall proceed with caution. But, Mr. ;Multord, there’s a sail 
in sight, if there’s a drop of water in the Gulf.” 

“ A sail, Jack! I trust in Heaven you are not deceived!” 


JACK TJER. 155 

“ 01(1 eyes are true eyes in such mailers, sir. Be careful not to 
start the women. They go oft like gunpowder, and Lord help ’em! 
have no more command over themselves, when you loosen ’em once, 
than so many flying-lish with a dozen dolphins a’ter them. Look 
hereaway, sir, just clear of the Irishwoman’s bonnet, a little broad 
off the spot where the reef was last seen— if that ain’t a sail my 
'liame is not Jack Tier!” 

A sail there w^as, sure enough! It was so very distant, however, 
as to render its character still uncertain, though Mulford fancied it 
w’as a square-rigged vessel heading to tbe northward. By its posi- 
tion it must be in one of the channels of the reef, and ^y its course, 
if he were not deceived, it was standing through, from the main 
passage along the southern side of the rocks, to come out on the 
northern. All this was favorable, and at first the young mate felt 
such a throbbing of the heart as we all experience when great and 
unexpected good intelligence is received. A moment’s reflection, 
however, made him aw'arc how little w’as to be hoped for from this 
vessel. In the first place, her distance was so great as to render it 
uncertain even which wa}^ she was steering. Then, there was ihe 
probability that she would pass at so great a distance as to r’ender it 
impossible to perceive an object so low as the wreck, and the ad- 
ditional chance of her passing in the night. Under all the circum- 
stances therefore, IVlulford felt convinced that there w^as very little 
probability of their receiving any succor from the sti-ange sail; and 
he fully appreciated Jack Tier’s motive in forbearing to give the 
usual call of ‘‘ Sail ho!” when he made this, discovery. Still, he 
could not deny himself the pleasure of communicating to Hose the 
cheering fact that a vessel was actually in sight. She could not 
reason on the , circumstances as he had done, and might at least 
pass several hours of comparative happiness by believing that 
there was some visible chance of delivery. 

The females received the intelligence with very different degrees 
of hope. Bose was delighted. To her their rescue appeared an 
event so very probable now that Harry Mulford almost regretted he 
had given rise to an expectation which he himself feared was to be 
disappointed. The feelings of Mrs, Budd were more suppressed. 
The wreck and her present situation were so completely at vaiiance 
with all her former notions of the sea and its incidents fhat she was 
almost dunifounded, and feared either to speak or to think. Bid- 
dy differed from either of her mistresses — the young or the old; she 
appeared to have lost all hope, and her physical energy was fast 
giving w^ay under her profound moral debility. 

From the return of light that day Mulford had thought if it were 
to prove that Providence had withdrawn its protecting hand from 
them, Biddy, who to all apearance ought to be the longest liver 
among the females at least, would be the first to sink under her 
sufferings. Such is the influence of moral causes on the mere 
animal. 

Rose saw the night shut in around them, amid the solemn solitude 
of the ocean, with a mingled sensation of awe and hope. She had 
prayed devoutly, and often, in the course of the preceding day, and 
her devotions had contributed to calm her spirits. Once or twice, 
while kneeling with her head bowed to the keel, she had raised her 


156 


JACK TIER. 

eyes toward Harry with a look of entreaty, as if she would implore 
him to humble his proud spirit and place himself at her side, and 
ask that succor from God which was so much neederl, and which 
Indeed it began most seriously to appear that God alone could yield. 
The young mate did not comply, for his pride of profession and of 
manhood offered themselves as stumbling-blocks to prevent sub- 
mission to his secret wishes. Though he rarely prayed, Harry Mul- 
ford was tar from being an unbeliever, or one altogether regardless 
of his duties and obligations to his divine Creator. On the con- 
trary, his heart "was more disposed to resort to such means ot self- 
abasement and submission lhan he put in piacticcj and this because 
he had been taught to believe that the Anglo-Saxon mariner did not 
call on Hercules, on every occasion ot difficulty and distress that 
occurred, as was the fashion with the Italian and liomish seamen, 
but he put his own shoulder to the wheel, confident that Hercules 
would not forget to help him who knew how to help himself. But 
Harry had great difficulty in withstanding Rose’s silent appeal that 
evening, as she knelt at the keel for the last time, and turned her 
gentle eyes upward at him, as if to ask him once more to take his 
place at her side. Withstand the appeal he did, however, though 
ill his inward spirit he prayed fervently to God to put away this 
dreadful affliction from the young' and innocent creature before 
him. When these evening devotions, were ended the, whole party 
became thoughtful and silent. 

It was necessary to sleep, and arrangements were made to do so, 
it possible, with a proper regard for their security. Mul ford and 
Tier were to have the lookout, watch and watch. This was done 
that no vessel might pass near them unseen, and that any change in 
the weather might be noted and looked to. As it was, the wind had 
fallen, and seemed about to vary, though it yet stood in its old 
cpiarter, or a little more easterly, perhaps. As a consequence, the 
drift of the wreck, in so much as it depended on the currents of the 
air, was more nearly in a line with the direction ot the reef, and 
there was little ground for apprehending that they miaht be driven 
further from it in the night. Although that reef offered in reality 
no place ot safety that was available to his party, Mulford felt it 
as a sort of relief to be certain that it was not distant, possibly in- 
,flnenced by a vague hope that some passing wrecker or turtler 
might yet pick them up. 

The bottom ot the schooner and the destitute condition of the 
party admitted of only very simple arrangements for the night. 
The females placed themselves against the keel in the best manner 
they could, and thus endeavored to get a little ot the re.st they so 
much needed. The day had been warm, as a matter of course, 
and the contrast produced by the setting of the sun was at first 
rather agreeable than otherwise. Luckily Rose had thrown a shawl 
over her shoulders not long before the vessel capsized, and in this 
shawl she had been saved. ^ It had been dried, and it now served 
for a light covering to .herself and her aunt, and added essentially 
to their cornfort. As for Biddy, she was too liardy to need a shawl, 
and she protested that she should not think of using one, had she 
been better provided. The patient, meek manner in which that 
humble, but generous-heaited creature submitted to her fate, and 


JACK TIEK. 


157 

• 

the earnestness with which she had be<]jged that '' Miss Rosy ” might 
have her morsel ot the portion of biscuit each received for a supper^ 
had sensibly impressed' Multord in her favor; and knowing -how 
much more necessary food was to sustain one of her robust frame 
and sturdy habits, tiiap to Rose, he had contrived to give the wora- 
.an, unknown to herself, a double allowance. ISorwas it surprising- 
that Biddy did not detect this little act of fraud in her favor, for 
this double allowance was merely a single mouthful. The want ot 
water had made itself much more keenly felt than the want ot food, 
for as yet anxiety, excitement, and apprehension prevented the ap- 
petite from being much awakened, while the claims of thirst were 
increased rather than diminished, by these very causes. IStill, no 
one had complained, on this or any other account, throughout the 
whole of the long and weary day which had passed. 

Mulford took the first lookout, with the intention of catching a 
little sleep, if possible, during the middle hours of the night, and 
of returning to his duty as morning approached. For the first hour 
nothing occurrerf to divert his attention from brooding on the 
melancholy circumstances of their situation. It seemed as if all 
around him had actually lost the sense of their cares in sleep, and 
no sound was audible amid that ocean wnste, but the light washing 
of the water, as the gentle waves rolled at intervals against the 
weather-side of the wreck. It was now that Mulford found a mo- 
ment for prayer, and seated on the ivecl, he called on the Divine aid, 
in a fervent but silent petition to God, to put away this trial from the 
youthful and beautiful Rose, at least, though he himself perished. 
It was the first prayer that Multord had made in many months, or 
since he had joined the “ Swash a craft in which that duty wa& 
very seldom thought of. 

A few minutes succeeded this petition, when Biddy spoke, 

“Missus — Madam Budd— dear missus” — halt -Whispered the 
Irish woman, anxious not to disturb Rose, who lay furthest from 
her — “ missus, bees ye asleep at sich a time as this?” 

“No, Biddy; sleep and 1 are Strangers to each other, and are 
likely to be till morning. What do 5^11 wish to say?” 

” Any thing is betther than my own t’oughts, missus dear, and 1 
wants to talk to ye. Is it no wather at all they’ll give us so long as 
we stay in this place?” 

“ There is no one to give it to us but God, poor Biddy, and he 
alone can say what, in his gracious mercy, it may please him to do. 
Ah! Biddy, 1 fear me that 1 did an unwise and thoughtless thing 
to brina: my poor Rose to such a place as this. Were it to be done 
over again, the riches of Wall Street would not tempt me to be 
guilty of so wrong a thing!” 

The arm of Rose was throtvn around her aunt’s neck, and its 
gentle pressure announced how completely the offender was for- 
given. 

” I’s very sorry for Miss Rose,” rejoined Buldy, “ and I suffers 
so much the more meself in thinking how hard it must be for the 
like of her to be wantin’ a swallow of fresh wather.” 

‘‘It is no harder for me to bear it, poor Biddy,” answered the 
gentle voice of our heroine, ‘‘ than it is for yourself.” 

“ Is if meself, then? Sure am 1, that if 1 had a quar-r-t of good 


JACK TIE 11. 


158 

swate wather from oiir own pump, and thaVs lar betther is it than 
the Crothon, the best da}" the Crothon ever seed — but had I a 
quar-r-t of it, every dhrap would I give to you, Miss Rose, to ap- 
p’ase your thirst, 1 would.” • 

” Water would be a great relief to us all, just now, my excellent 
Biddy,” answered Rose, ” and I wish we had but a tumblerful of 
that you name, to divide equally among the whole five of us’.” 

” is it divide? Then it would be ag’in dividin’ that my voice 
would be raised, for that same r’ason that the tumbler would never 
hold as much as you could dhrink yourself, Miss Rose.” 

“Yet the tumblerful would be a great blessing for us all just 
now,” murmured Mrs. Budd. 

“And isn’t mutthon good ’atin’, ladies? Och! if 1 had but a 
good swate pratie, now, from my own native Ireland, and a’ dhrap 
of milk to help wash it down! It’s mighty little that a body thinks 
of sich thrifles when there’s abundance of them; but M"hen there’s 
none at all, they get to be stronger in the mind than riches and 
honors.” 

“You say the truth, Biddy,” rejoined the mistress, “and there 
33 a pleasure in talking of them, if one can’t enjoy them. I’ve been 
thinking aU the afternoon. Rose, what a delicious food is a good 
TO ist turkey, with cranberry sauce; and 1 wonder, now, that 1 have 
not been more grateful for the very many that Providence has be- 
stowed on me in my time. My poor Mr. Budd was passionately 
fond of mutton, and 1 used wickedly to laugh at his fondness for 
it, sometimes, when he always had his answer ready, and that was, 
that there are no sheep at-sea! How true that is, Rosy dear! there 
are, indeed, no sheep at sea!” 

“ No, aunty,” answered Rose’s gentle voice from beneath the 
shawl; — “ there are no such animals on the ocean, but God is with 
us here as much as he would be in New Y’ork. ” 

A long silence succeeded this simple remark of his well beloved, 
and the young mate hoped that there would be no mere of a dia- 
logue, every syllable of which a dagger to his feelinL^s. But 
nature was stronger than reflection in Mrs. Budd and Biddy, and 
the latter spoke again, after a pause of near a quarter of an hour. 

“ Pray for me, missus,’* she said, inoaningly, “ that 1 may sleep. 
A bit of sleep would do a body almost as rnuch good as a bit of 
bread— 1 won’t say as much as "a dhrap of wather.” 

“ Be quiet, Biddy, and we loill pray for you,” answered Rose, 
w"ho fancied by her*^breathing that her aunt w'as about to forget her 
sufteiings for a brief space, in broken slumbers. 

“P it for you I’ll do that — and sure will 1, Miss Rose. Niver 
would 1 have quitted Ireland, could 1 have thought there was sich 
a spo! on this earth as a place where no wather Was to be Iiati.” 

This was the last of Biddy’s audible complaints, for the lemaindei 
of this long and anxious watch of Mulford. lie then set himself 
about an arrangement which shall be mentioned in its proper place. 
At twelve o’clock, or when he thought Jt was twelve, he called 
Jack Tier, who in turn called the mate again at four. 

“ It looks dark and threatening,” said Mulford, as he rose to his 
feet and began to look aoout him once more, “ though there does 
not appear to be any wdnd.” 


JACK TIER. 159 

" It’s a flat calm, Mr. Mate, and the darkness comes from yonder 
cloud, which seems likely to bring a little rain.” 

“Rain! Then God is indeed with us here. You are right, Jack; 
rain must fall from that cloud. We must catch some of it, if it be 
onl}’^ a drop to cool Rose’s parched tongue.” 

‘‘In what?” answered Tier, gloomily. “She may wring her 
clothes when the shower is over, and in that way get a drop. 1 see 
no other method.” 

“ I have bethought me of all that, and passed most of my watch 
in making the preparations.” 

Mulford then showed Tier what he had been about, in the long 
and solitary hours of the first watch. It would seem that the young 
man had dug a little trench with his knife, along the schooner’.s 
bottom, commencing two or three feet from the keel, and near the 
spot where Rose was lying, and carrying it. as far as was convenient 
toward Ihe run, until he reached a point where he had dug out a 
sort of reservoir to contain the precious fluid, should any be sent 
them by Providence. While doing this, there were no signs of rain; 
but the young man knew that a shower alone could save them from 
insanity, if not from death; and in speculating on the means of 
profiting by one, should it come, he had bethought him of this ex- 
pedient. The large knife of a seaman had served him a good turn 
in carrying on his work, to complete which there remained now 
very little to do, and that was in enlarging the receptacle for the 
water. The hole was already big enough to contain a pint, and it 
might easily Jle sufHciently enlarared to hold double that quantity. 

.Jack was no sooner made acquainted with what had been done^ 
than he out knife and commenced tearing splinter after splinter from 
the planks, to help enlarge the reservoir. This could only be done 
by cutting on the surface, for the wood was not three inches in 
thickness, and the smallest hole through the plank, would have led 
to the rapid escape of the air, and to the certain sinking of the 
wreck. It required a good deal of judgment to preserve the neces- 
sary level also, and Mulford was obliged to interfere more than once 
to prevent his companion from doing more harm than good. He 
succeeded, however, and had actually made a cavity that might 
contain more than a quart of water, when the first large drop fell 
from the heavens. Ihis cavity was riot a hole, but a long, deep 
trencdi — deep" for the circumstances -so nicely cut on the proper 
level, as to admit of its holding a fluid in the quantity mentioned. 

“ Rose— dearest— rise, and be ready to drink,” said Mulford, ten- 
derly disturbing the uneasy slumbers of his beloved. “ It is about 
to rain, and God is with us here, as he might be on the land.” 

“ Wather!’* exclaimed Biddy, who was awaked wuTh the same 
call. “ What a blessed thing is good swate wather, and sure am I 
we ought all to be thankful that there is such a precious gift in the 
worr-ld!” 

“Come, then,” said Mulford. hurriedly, “it will soon rain— L 
hear it pattering on the sea. Come hither, all of you, and drink, 
as a merciful God furnishes the means.” 

This summons was not likely to be neglected. All arose in haste, 
and the word “water” was murmured from every lip. Biddy 
ha«i less self-command than the others, and she was heard saying 


160 


JACK TJEK. 


aloud — “ Ocli! and didn’t 1 dlirame of the blessed springs and wells 
of Ireland the night, and haven’t I dhrunk at ’em all? But now 
it’s over, and 1 am awake, no good has’t done me, and I’m ready 
to die for one dhrap of wather.” 

That drop soon came, however, and with it the blessed relief 
which such a boon bestow’s. Mulford had barely time to explain 
his arrangements, and to place the party, on their knees, along his 
little reservoir and the gutter which led to it, when the pattering of 
the rain advanced along the sea, with a deep rushing sound. Pres- 
ently, the uplifted faces and open mouths caught a few heavy strag- 
gling drops, to cool the parched tongues, when the water came tum- 
bling down upon them in a thousand little streams. There was 
scarcely any wind, and merely the skirt of a large black cloud 
floated over the wreck, on wddch the rain fell barely one minute. 
But it fell as rain comes. down witliin the tropics, and in sufficient 
quantities for all present purposes. Everybody drank and found 
relief; and, when all was over Mulford ascertained by examination 
that his receptacle for the fluid was still full to overflowing. The 
abstinence had not been of sufticient length, nor the quantity taken 
of large enough amount, to produce injury, though the thirst -was 
generally and temporarily appeased. It is probable that Ihe cool- 
ness of the hour, day dawning as the cloud moved past, and the 
circumstance that the sufferers w'ere welled to their skins, contrib- 
uted to the cLange. 

Och, blessed, blessed wather!” exclaimed Biddy, as she rose 
from lier .knees; ‘‘America, afther all, isn’t as dhr^^a country as 
some say. I’ve niver tasted swater wather in Irelancljtself I” 

Rose murmured her thanksgiving in more appropriate language. 
A few exclamations also escaped Mrs. Budd, and Jack Tier had his 
sententious eulogy on tlie precious qualities of sweet water. 

The wind rose as the day advanced, and a swell began to heave 
the wreck with a power that had hitherto been dormant. Mulford 
understood this to be a sign that there had been a blow at some 
distance from them, that had thrown the sea into a state of agitation 
which extended itself beyond the influence of the wind. Eagerly 
did the young mate exaniine the horizon, as the curtain of night 
arose, inch by inch, as it* might be, on the watery panorama, m the 
hoperthat a' vessel of somesqrt or other might be brought within the 
veivv. Nor was he wholly disappointed. The strange sail seen the 
previous evening was actually there; and what was more, so near 
as to allow her hull to be distinctly visible. It was a ship, under 
her square canvas, standing from between divided poitions of the 
reef, as it getting to. the north waid, in order to avoid the opposing 
current of the Gull Stream. Vessels bound to Mobile, New Orleans 
and other ports along the coast of the Republic, in that quarter of 
the ocean, often did this; and when the young mate first caught 
glimpses of the shadowy outline of this ship, he supposed it to be 
some packet, or cotton-droger, standing tor her port on the northern 
shore. But a few minutes removed the veil, and with it the error 
of this notion. A seaman could no longer mistake the cralt. Her 
length, her square and massive hamper, with the svmmetry of her 
spars, and the long, straight outline of the hull, left no doubt that 
it was a cruiser,^ with her hammocks unstowed. Mulford now 


JACK TIER. 


161 


cheerfully aimonnced to his companicns, that the ship they so plainly 
saw, scarcely a guu-shot distant from them, was the sloop-of-war 
which had already become a sort of acquaintance. 

“ If we can succeed in making them see our signal,” cried Mul- 
■ford, “all will yet be well. Come, Jack, and help me to put 
abroad this shawl, the only ensign we can show.” 

The shawl ot Rose was tiie signal spread. Tier and Mulford 
stood on the keel. and holding opposite coriiers, let the rest of the cloth 
blow out with the wind. For near an hour did these two extend 
their arms, and try all possible expedients to make their signal con- 
spicuous. But, unfortunately, the wind blew directly toward the 
■cruiser, and instead of exposing a surface of any breadth to the 
vision of those on board her, it must, at most, have offered little 
more than a flitting, waving line. 

As the day advanced, sail was made on the cruiser. She had 
stood through the passage, in which she had been becalmed most of 
the night, under short canvas; but now she threw out fold after 
fold oT her studding-sails, and moved away to the westward, with 
the stately motion of a ship before the wind. No sooner had she 
got far enough to the northward of the reef, than she made a devi- 
.ation from her course as first seen, turning her stern entirely to the 
wreck, and rapidly Incoming less and less distinct to the eyes of 
those who floated on rt. 

Mulford saw the hopelessness of their case, as it respected relief 
from this vessel; still, he persevered in maintaining his position on 
the keel, tossing and waving the shawl, in all the variations that 
his ingenuity could devise. He well knew, however, that their 
chances of being seen would have been trebled could tliey have been 
ahead instead of astern of the ship. Mariners have few occasions to 
look behind them, while a hundred watchful ej'es are usually turned 
•ahead, more especially when running near rocks and shoals. Mrs. 
Budd w’ept like an infant when she saw the sloop-of-war gliding 
away, reaching a distance that rendered sight useless, in detecting 
an object that floated as low on the water as the wreck. As for 
Biddy, unable to control her feelings, the poor creature actually 
called to the crew of tlie depflTtTng vessel, as if her voice had the 
power to make itself heard, at a distance which alieady exceeded 
Iwo ieagucjS. 'It was only by means of the earnest remonstrances 
of Rose, that the faithful creature could be quieted. 

“ AVhy wdll ye not come to our relaif?” she cried at the top ot 
her voice. “ ±iere arc we, helpless as new-born babies, and ye 
sailing; away from us in aconthrary way! D’ye not bethink you ot 
the missus, who is much of a sailor, but not sich a one as to sail on 
a wrack; and poor Miss Rose, who is the char-rm and delight of 
all eyes. Only come and tal£e off Miss Rose, and lave the rest of 
us, if ye so likes; for it’s a sin and a shame to lave the likes of her 
to die in the midst ot the ocean, as if she was no better nor a fish. 
Then it will be soon that we shall ag’in feel the want of wather, 
and that, loo, with nothing but wather to be seen on all sides of 
us.” ^ 

“ It is of no use,” said Harry, mournfully, stepping down from 
Hie keel, and laying aside the shawl. “ They can not see us, and 
the distauce is now so great as to render it certain they never will. 


162 


JACK TIER. 


There is only one hope left. We are evidently set to and fro by 
the tides, and it is possible that by keeping in or near this passage, 
some other craft may appear, and we be more fortunate. The re- 
lief of the rain is a s’gn that we are not forgotten by Divine Provi- 
dence, and with such a protector we ought not to despair.” 

A gloomy and scanty breaking of the fast succeeded. Each per- 
son had one large mouthful of bread, which was all that prudence 
would authorize Mulford to distribute. He attempted a pious 
fraud, however, by placing his own allowance along with that of 
Rose’s, under the impression that her strength might not endure 
privation as well as his own. But the tender solicitude of Rose 
was not to be thus deceived. Judging of his wishes and motives 
by her own, she at once detected the deception, and insisted on re- 
taining no more than her proper share. When this distribution was 
completed, and the meager allowance taken, only sufficient bread 
remained to make one more similar scanty meal, if meal a single 
mouthful could be termed. As for the crater, a want of which 
would be certain to be felt as soon as the sun obtained its noonday 
power, the shawl was extended over it, in a way to prevent 
evaporation as much as possible, and at the same time to offer some 
resistance to the fluid’s being washed from its shallow receptacle by 
the motion of the wreck, which was sensibly/ increasing with the 
increase of the wind and waves. r 

Mulford had next an anxious duty to perform. Throughout the 
whole of the preceding day he had seen the air escaping from the 
hull, in an incessant succession of small bubbles, which were 
formidable through their numbers, if not through their size . The 
mate was aware that this unceasing loss of the buoyant property of 
the wreck must eventually lead to their destruction, should no 
assistance come, and he had marked the floating line, on the bottom 
of the vessel with his knife, ere darkness set in, on the previous 
evening. No sooner did his thoughts recur to this fact, after the 
excitement of the first hour of daylight was over, than he stepped 
to the different places thus marked, and saw, with an alarm that it. 
would be difficult to describe, that the wreck had actually sunk 
into the water several inches within the last few hours. This was, 
indeed, menacing their security in a most serious manner, setting a 
limit to their existence, which rendered all precaution on the sub- 
ject of food and water useless. By the calculations of the mate, 
the wreck could not float more than eight-and-forty hours, should 
it continue to lose the air at the rate at which it had been hitherto 
lost. Bad as all this appeared, things were fated to become much 
rnore serious. The motion of the water quite sensibly increased, 
lifting the wreck at times in a way greatly to increase the danger of 
their situation. The reader will understand this movement did not 
proceed from the waves of the existing wind, but from what is tech- 
nically called a ground swell, or the long, heavy undulations that 
are left by the tempest that is past, or by some distant gale. The 
waves of the present breeze were not very formidable, the reef mak- 
ing a lee; though they 'might possibly become inconvenient from 
breaking on the weather side ofthe wreck, as soon as the drift car- 
ried the latter fairly abreast of the [)assage already mentioned. But 
the dangers that proceeded from the heavy ground-swell, which now 


JACK TIER. 163 

began to give a considerable motion to the wreck, will best explain 
itself by narrating the incidents as they occurred. 

Harry had left his marks, and had taken his seat on the keel at 
Rose’s side, impatiently waiting for any turn that Providence might 
next give . to their situation, when a heavy roll of the wreck first 
attracted his attention to this new circumstance. 

“If any one is thirsty,” he observed quietly, “ he or she had better 
drink now, while it may be done. Two or three more such rolls 
as this last will wash all the water from our gutters.” 

“ Wather is a blessed thing,” said Biddy, with a longing expres- 
sion of the eyes, “ and it would be betther to swallow it than to let 
it be lost.” 

“ Then drink, for Heaven’s sake, good woman — it may be the last 
occasion that will offer.” 

“ Sure am 1 that 1 would not touch a dhrap, while the missus 
and Miss Rosy was a- sufferin’.” 

“ iTiave no thirst at all,” answered Rose, sweetly, “ and have 
already taken more water Ilian was good for me, with so liltle food 
on my stomach.” 

“ Eat another morsel of bread, beloved,” whispered Harry, in a 
manner so urgent that Rose gratefully complied. “ Drink, Biddy, 
and we will come and share with you before the water is wasted by 
this increasing motion.’' 

Biddy did as desired, and each knelt in turn and took a little of 
the grateful fluid, leaving about a gill in the gutters for the use of 
those whose lips’mighl again become parched. 

“ Wather is a blessed thing,” repeated Biddy, for the twentieth 
time— “ a blessed, blessed thing is wather!” 

A little scream from Mrs. Budd, which was dutifully taken up 
by the maid, interrupted the speech of the latter, and every eye was 
turned on Mulford, as it to ask an explanation of the groaning sound 
that had been heard within the wreck. The young mate com- 
prehended only too well. The rolling of the wreck had lifted a 
portion of the open hatchway above the undulating surface of the 
sea, and a large quantity of the pent air within the hold had escaped 
in a body. The entrance of water to supply the vacuum had pro- 
duced the groan. Mulford had made new marks on the vessel’s 
bottom with his knife, and he stepped down to them, anxious and 
nearly heart-broken, to note the effect. That one surging of the 
\7reck had permitted air enough to escape to lower it in the water 
several inches. As yet, however, the visible limits of their floating 
foundation had not been sufficiently reduced to attract ihe attention 
■of the females; and the young man said nothing on the subject. 
He thought that Jack Tier was sensible of the existence of this new 
source of danger, but if he were, that experienced mariner imitated 
his own reserve, and made no allusion to it. Thus passed the day. 
Occasionally the wreck rolled heavily, when more air escaped, the 
hull settling lower and lower in tlie water as a necessary conse- 
quence. The little bubbles continued incessantly to rise, and Mulford 
became satisfied that another day must decide their fate. Taking 
this view or their situation, he saw no use in reserving their food, 
but encouraged his companions to share the wdiole of what remained 
at sunset. Little persuasion w’as necessary, and when night once 


164 


JACK TIEE. 


more came to envelop them in darkness, not a mouthful of food or 
a drop of water remained to meet the necessities of the coming, 
morn. It had rained again tor a short time, in the course of the 
afternoon, when enough water had been caught to allay their thirst, 
and what was almost of as much importance to the females now, a 
sufficiency of sun had succeeded to dry their clothes, thus enabling 
them to sleep without enduring the chilling damps that might other- 
wise have prevented it. The wind had sensibly fallen, and the 
groundswell was altogether gone, but Mulford was certain that the 
relief had come too late. So much air had escaped while it lastc'd 
as scarce to leave him the hope tiiat the wreck could float until 
morning. The rising of the bubbles was now incessant, the crevices- 
by which they escaped having most probably opened a little, in 
consequence of the pressure and the unceasing action of the currents,, 
small as the latter were. 

Just as darkness was shutting around them for the second time,, 
liose remarked to Mulford that it seemed to her that they had not 
as large a space for their little world as when they were first placed 
on it. The mate, however, successful!}’’ avoided an explanation; 
and when the watch was again set for the night, the females lay 
down to seek their repose, more troubled with apprehensions for a 
morrow of hunger and thirst, than by any just fears that might so- 
well have arisen from the physical certainty that the body which 
alone kept them from being ingulfed in the sea, could float but a 
few hours longer. This night Tier kept the lookout until Jupiter 
reached the zenith, when Mulford was called to hold the watch un- 
til light returned. 

It may seem singular that any could sleep at all in such a situa- 
tion But we get accustomed, in an incredibly short time, to the 
most violent changes; and calamities that seem insupportable, when 
looked at from a distance, lose half their power if met and resisted 
with fortitude. The last may, indeed, be too insignificant a word 
to be applied to all of the party on the wreck, on the occasion of 
which we are writing, though no one of them all betrayed fears that 
were troublesome. Of Mulford it is unnecessary to speak. His de- 
portment had been quiet, thoughtful, and full of a manly interest 
in the comfort of others, from the first moment of the calamity. 
That Rose should share the largest in his attentions was natural 
enough, but he neglected no essential duty to her companions. Rose, 
herself, had little hope of being rescued. Her naturally courageous, 
character, however, prevented any undue exhibitions of despair, and 
now it was that the niece became the principal support of the aunt, 
completely changing the relations that had formerly existed between 
them. Mrs. Budd had lost all the little buoyancy of her mind. Kot 
a syllable did she now utter concerning ships and their maneuvers. 
She had been, at first, a little disposed to be queiulous and despair- 
ing, but the soothing and pious conversation of Rose awakened a 
certain degree of resolution in her, and habit soon exercised its in- 
fluence over even her inactive mind. Biddy was a strange mixture 
of courage, despair, humility, and consideration for others. Not 
once had she taken her -small allowance of food without first offer- 
ing it, and that, too, in perfect good faith, to her “ Missus and Miss 
Rosy;” yet her meanings for this sort of support, and her com- 


JACK TIER. 


165 


plaints of bodily suffering, much exceeded that of all the rest of the- 
party put together. As for Jack Tier, his conduct singularly be- 
lied his appearance. No one would have expected any great show 
of manl}’^ resolution from the little rotund, lymphatic figure of Tier;, 
but he had manifested a calmness that denoted either great natural 
courage, or a resolution derived from familiarity with danger. In 
this particular, even Mulford regarded his deportment with sur- 
prise, not unmingled with respect. 

“ You have had a tranquil watch, Jack,” said Harry, when ho 
Tvas called by the person named, and had fairly aroused himself 
from his slumbers. “ Has the wind stood as it is, since sunset?” 

‘‘ No change whatever, sir. It has blowed a good working breeze 
the whole watch, and what is surprising, not as much lipper has 
got up as would frighten a colt on a sea-beach.” 

” We must be near the reef, by that. I think the only currents 
we feel come from the tide, ami they seem to be setting us bacK and 
forth, instead of carrying us in any one settled direction.” 

“ Quite likely, sir; and this makes my opinion of what 1 saw an 
hour since all the more probable.” 

” Wbat you saw! In the name Of a merciful Providence, Tier, 
do not trifle with me! Has anything been seen near by?” 

“ Don’t talk to me of your liquors and other dhrinks,” murmured ■ 
Biddy in her sleep. “ It’s wathei that is a blessed thing; and I wish 
1 lived, the night and the day, by the swate pump that’s in our own 
yard, Ido.” 

“ The woman has been talking in her sleep, in this fashion, most 
of the watch,” observed Jack, coolly, and perhaps a little contemptu- 
ously. “But, Mr. Mulford, unless my eyes have cheated me, we 
are "near that boat again. The passage through the reef is close 
aboard here, on our larboard bow, as it might be, and the current 
has sucked us in it in a fashion to bring it in a sort of athwart-hawse 
direction to us.” 

” If that boat, after all, should be sent by Providence to our relief f 
How long is it since you saw it. Jack?” 

” But a bit since, sir; or, for that matter, 1 think I see it now. 
Look hereaway, sir, just where the dead-eyes of the fore-rigging 
would bear from us, if the craft stood upon her legs, as she ought 
to do. If that isn’t a boat, it’s a rock out of water.” 

Mulford gazed through the gloom of midnight, and saw, or fancied 
, he saw, an object that might really be the boat. It could not be 
* very distant, either; and his mind was instantly made up as to the 
course he would pursue. Should it actually turn out to be that 
which he now so much Imped for, and its distance in the morning 
did not prov’e too great for iiuman powers, he was resolved to swim 
for it at the hazard of his life. In the meantime, or until light 
should return, there remained nothing to do but to exercise as much 
patience as could be summoned, and to conflde in God, soliciting 
his powerful succor by secret prayer. 

Mulford was no sooner left alone, as it might be, by Tier’s seek- 
ing a place in which to take his rest, than he again examined the 
state of the wreck. Little as he had hoped from its long-continued 
buoyancy, he found matters even worse than he apprehended they 
would be. The hull had lost much air, and had consequently sunk 


JACK TIER. 


lt)G 

in the water in an exact proportion to this loss. The space that wns 
■actually above the water was reduced to an area nut more than six 
•or seven leet in one direction, bj’- some ten or twelve in the other. 
This was reducing its extent, since the evening previous, by fully 
one half; and there could be no doubt that the air was escaping, in 
•consequence of the additional pressure, in a ratio that increased by 
a sort of arithmetical progression. The young man knew that the 
whole wreck, under its peculiar circumstances, might sink 'entirely 
beneath the surface, and yet possess sufficient buoyancy to sustain 
those who were on it for a time longer, but this involved the teni- 
ble necessity of leaving the females"^partly submerged themselves. 

Our mate heard his own heart beat as he became satisfied of the 
actual condition of the wreck, and of the physical certainty that ex- 
isted of its sinking^ at least to the point last mentioned, ere the sun 
>came to throw its glories over the last view that the suflerers would 
be permitted to take of the face of day. It appeared 'to him that no 
lime was to be lost. There lay the dim and shapeless object that 
seemed to be the boat, distant, as he thought, about a mile. It 
wmuld not have been visible at all but for the perfect smoothness of 
the sea, and the low’^ position occupied by the observer. At times it 
did disappear altogether, when it would rise again, as if undulating 
in the groundswell. This last circumstance, more than anj”- other, 
persuaded Harry that it w^as not a rock, but some floating object 
lhat he beheld. Thus encouraged, he dela^’ed no longer. Every 
moment was precious, and all might be lost by indecision. He did 
not liKe the appearance of deserting his companions, but, should he 
lail, the motive would appear j,n the act. Should lie fail, eveiy one 
would alike soon be beyond the reach of censure, and in a slate of 
being that would do full jusice torfill. 

Harry threw off most of his clothes, reserving only his shirt and 
a pair of light summer trousers. He could not quit the wreck, 
however, w ithout taking a sort of leave of Rose. On no account 
would he awake her, for he appreciated the agony she w'ould feel 
during the period of his struggles. Kneeling at her side, he made a 
short prayer, then pressed his lips to her warm cheek, and left her. 
Rose murmured his name at that instant, but it was as the innocent 
and young betray their secrets in their slumbers. I^either of the 
party awoke. 

It W'as a moment to prove the heart of man, that in which Harry 
^Mulford, in the darkness of midnight, alone, unsustained by any 
encouraging eye, or approving voice, with no other aid than his 
own stout arm, and the unknown designs of a mysterious Provi- 
dence, committed his form to the sea. For an instant he paused, 
niter he had waded down on the wreck to a spot where the w’ater 
nlready mounted to his breast; but it w’as not in misgivings. He 
•calculated the chances, and made an intelligent use of such assist- 
ance as could be had. There had been no sharks near the wreck 
that day, but a splash in the w’ater might bring them back again in 
a crowd. They were probably prowling over the reef, near at hand. 
The mate used great care, therefore, to make no noise. Tliere was 
the distant object, and he set it by a bright star, that wanted about 
an hour before it would sink beneath the horizon. That star was 
his beacon, and muttering a few'wwds in earnest prayer, the voung 


JACK TIER. IGT 

man threw his body iorward, and left the wreck, swimming lightly 5, 
but with vigor. 


CHAPTER IX. 

The ni^ht has been unruly: where we lay, 

Our chimneys were blown down; and, as they say, 

Lamentings heard i’ the air; strange screams of death; 

And prophesying, with accents terrible, 

Of dire combustion, and confused events, 

New hatch'd to the woful time. 

Macbeth, 

It is seldom that man is required to make an exertion as desperate 
and appalling, in all its circumstances, as that on which Harry 
Multord was now bent. The night was starlight, it was true, and 
it was possible to see objects near by with tolerable dislinctness; 
still, it was midnight, and the gloom of that hour rested on the face 
of the sea, lending its solemn mystery and obscurity to the other 
trying features of the undertaking. Then there was the uncertainty 
whether it was the boat at all, of which he was in pursuit; and, if 
the boat, it might drift away from him as fast as he could follow it. 
Nevertheless, the perfect conviction that, without some early succor, 
the party on the wreck, including Rose Budd, must inevitably per- 
ish, stimulated him to proceed, and a passing feeling of doubt, 
touching the prudence of his course, that came over the young mate,, 
when he was a few yards from the wreck, vanished under a vivid 
renewal of this last conviction. On he swam, therefore, riveting 
his eye on the “ thoughtful star” that guided his course, and keep- 
ing his mind as tranquil as possible, in order that the exertions of hia 
body might be the easier. 

Mulford was an excellent swimmer. The want of food was a 
serious obstacle to his making one of his best efiorts, but, as yet. he 
was not very sensible of any great loss of strength. Understanding 
fully the necessity of swMmming easily, if he would swim long, he 
did not throw out all his energy at first, but made the movements 
of his limbs as regular, continued, 'and skillful as possible. Na 
strength w^as thrown away, and, his progress w'as in proportion to 
the prudence of this manner of proceeding. For some twenty min- 
utes he held'on his course, in this way, when he began to experience 
a little or that weariness which is apt to accompany an um emitted 
use of the same set of muscles, in a monotonous and undeviating 
mode. Accustomed to all the resources of his art, he turned on his 
back, for the double purpose of relieving his arms for a minute, and 
of getting a glimpse of the wreck, if possible, in order to ascertain, 
the distance he had overcome. Swim long in this new manner, 
however, he could not with prudence, as the star was necessary fn 
order to keep the direct line of his course. It may be w^ell to ex- 
plain to some of 'our readers, that, though the surface of the ocean 
may be like glass, as sometimes really happens, it is never absolute- 
ly free from the long, undulating notion that is known by the name' 
of a “ grounds well.” This swell, on the present occasion, was not 
very heavy, but it was sufficient to place our young mate, at mo- 
ments, between tw'o dark mounds of water, that limited his view in 
either direction to some eighty or a hundred yards; then it raised 


1G8 


JACK TIER. 


him. on the summit of a rounded wave, that enabled him to see, far 
as his eye could reach undei that obscure light. Profiting by this 
advantage, Mulford now looked behind him, in quest of the wreck, 
but uselessly. It might have been in the trough, while he was thus 
on the summit of the waves, or it might be that it floated so low as 
to be totally lost to the view of one whose head was scarcely above 
the surface of the water. For a single instant, the young man felt 
a chill at his heart, as he fancied that the wreck had already sunk ; 
but it passed away when he recalled the slow progress by which the 
air escaped, and he saw the certainty that the catastrophe, however 
inevitable, could not yet have really arrived. He waited for another 
swell to lift him on its summit, when, by “treading water,” he 
raised his head and shoulders fairly above the surface of the sea, 
and strained his eyes in another vain effort to catch a glimpse of the 
wreck,- He could not see it. In point of fact, the mate had swum 
much further than he had supposed, and w^as already so distant as 
to render any such attempt hopeless. He was fully a third of a 
mile distant from the point of his departure. 

Disappointed, and in a slight degree disheartened, Mulford turned, 
and swam in the direction of the sinking star. He now looked 
anxiously for the boat. It was time that it came more plainly into 
view, and a new source of anxiety beset him, as he could discover 
no signs of its vicinity. Certain that he was on the course, after 
making a due allowance for the direction of the wind, the stout- 
hearted young man swam on. He next determined not to annoy 
himself hy fruitless searches, or vain regrets, but to swim steadily 
for a certain time, a period long enough to caiTy him a material dis- 
tance, ere he again looked for the object of his search. 

For twenty minutes longer did that courageous and active youth 
struggle with the waste of waters amid the obscurity and solitude 
‘of midnight. He now believed himself near a mile from the wreck, 
and the star which had so long served him for a beacon was getting 
near to the horizon. He took a new observation of another of the 
heavenly bodies nigh it, to serve him in its stead when it should dis- 
appear altogether, and then he raised himself in the water, and 
looked about again for the boat. The search was in vain. Xo boat 
was very near him, of a certainty, and the dreadful apprehension 
began to possess his mind, of perishing uselessly in that waste of 
gloomy waters. iVhile thus gazing about him, turning his ej^es in 
■every quarter, hoping intentl}'' to catch some glimpse of the much- 
desired object in the gloom, he saw two dark, pointed objects, that 
resembled small stakes, in the water, within twenty feet of him. 
'Mulford knew them at a glance, and a cold shudder passed through 
his frame, as he recognized them. They were, out of all question, 
the fins of an enormous shark; an .animal that could not measure 
less than eighteen or twenty feet in length. 

It is scarcely necessary to say, that when our young mate discov- 
ered the proximity of this dangerous animal, situated as he was, he 
gave himself up lor lost. He possessed his knife, however, and 
had heard of the manner in which even sharks were overcome, and 
that too in their own element, by the skillful and resolute. At first, 
he was resolved to make one desperate effort for life, before he sub- 
omitted to a fate as horrible as that which now menaced him; but 


JACK TIER. 


1 Gr- 
ille movements of his dangerous neighbor induced him to wait. It 
did not approach any nearer, but continued swimming back and 
fro, on the surface of the water, according to the known habits of 
the fish, as if watching his own movements. There being no time 
to be wasted, our young man turned on his face, and began aL^ain 
to swim in the direction of the setting star, though nearly chilled 
by despair. For ten minutes longer did he struggle on, beginning 
to feel exhaustion, however, and always accompanied by those two 
dark, sharp, and gliding fins. There was no difficulty in knowing 
the position of the animal, and Mulford’s eyes were ottener on those 
fins than on the beacon before him. Strange as it may appear, he 
actually bcame accustomed to the vicinity of this formidable creat- 
ure, and soon felt his presence a sort of relief against the dreadful 
solitude of his situation. He had been told by seamen of instances, 
and had once witnessed a case himself, in which a shark had 
attended a swimming man for a long distance, either forbearing to do 
him harm from repletion, or influenced by that awe which nature has 
instilled into all of the inferior, for the highest animal of the creation. 
He began to think that he was thus favored, and really regarded the 
shark as a friendly neighbor, rather than as a voracious foe. In 
this manner did the two proceed nearly another third of a mile, the 
fins sometimes in sight ahead, gliding hither and thither, and some- 
times out of view behind the swimmer, leaving him in dreadful 
doubts as to the movements of the fish, when Mulford suddenly felt 
something hard hit his foot. Believing it to be the shark, dipping 
for his prey, a slight exclamation escaped him. At the next instant 
both feet hit the unknown substance again, and he stood erect, the 
water no higher than his waist! Quick, and comprehending every- 
thing connected with the sea, the young man at once understood 
that he was on a part of the reef where the water was so shallow as 
to admit of his wading. 

Mulford felt that he had been providentially rescued from death. 
His strength had been about to fail him, when he was thus led, un- 
known to himself, to a spot where, liis life might yet be possibly 
prolonged foj* a few more hours, or days. He had leisure to look 
about him, and to reflect on what was next to be done. Almost 
unwittingly, he turned in quest of his terrible companion, in whose 
voractous mouth he had actually believed himself about to be im- 
molated, a few seconds before. There the two horn-like fins were 
still, eliding about above the water, and indicating the smallest 
movement of their formidable owner. The mate observed that they 
went a short distance ahead of him, describing nearly a semicircle, 
and then returned, doing the same thing in his rear, repeating the 
movements incessantly, keeping always on his right. This con- 
vinced him that shoaler water existed on his left hand, and he 
wa'ded in that direction, until he reached a small spot of naked rock. 

For a time, at least, he was safe! The fragment of coral on which 
the mate now stood was irregular in shape, but might have con- 
tained a hundred feet square in superficial measurement, and was so 
little raised above the level of the water as not to be visible even by 
daylight, at the distance of a hundred yards. Mulford found it 
was perfectly dry however, an important discovery to him, as by a 
close calculation he had made of the tides, since quitting the Dry 


170 


JACK TlEiC 


' Tortugas, he knew it must be near high water. ^ Could he have even 
t)u6 small portion of bare rock secure, it made him, for the moment, 
rich as the most extensive landholder living. A considerable 
quantity of sea-weed had lodged on the rock, and, as most of this 
was also quite dry, it convinced the young sailor that the place was 
usually bare. But, though most of this sea-weed was dry, there 
were portions of the more recent accessions there that still lay in, or 
quite near to the water, which formed exceptions. In handling 
these weeds, in order to ascertain the tacts, Mulford caught a small 
shell-fish, and finding it fresn and easy to open, he swallowed it 
with the eagerness of a famishing man. l^ever had food proved 
halt so grateful to him as that single swallow of a very palatable 
testaceous animal. By feeling further, he found several others of 
the same family, and made quite as large a meal as, under the cir- 
'Cumstances, was probably good for him. Then, grateful for his 
■escape, but overcome by fatigue, he hastily arranged a bed of sea- 
weed, drew a portion of the plant over his body, to keep him warm, 
itnd fell into a deep sleep that lasted for hours. 

Mulford did not regain his consciousness until the rays of the 
rising sun fell upon his eyelids, and the genial warmth of the great 
luminary shed its benign influence over his frame. At first his mind 
was confused, and it required a few seconds to bring a perfect 
recollection of the past and a true understanding of his real situa- 
tion. They came, however, and the young man moved to the 
highest part of his little domain, and cast an anxious, hurried look 
around in quest of the wreck. A knowledge of tlie course in which 
he had swum, aided by the position of the sun, told him on what 
part of the naked waste to look for the object he sought. God had 
jiot yet forsaken them! There was the wreck; or, it might be more 
exact to say, there were those whom the remaining buoyan'T^^ of the 
wreck still upheld from sinking into the depths of the Gulf. In 
point of fact, but a very little of the bottom of the vessel actually 
remained above water, some two or three yards square at most, and 
that little was what seamen term nearly awash. Two or three hours 
must bury that small portion of the still naked wood beneath the 
surface of the sea, though sufficient buoyancy might possibly remain 
lor the entire day still to keep the living from death. 

There the wreck was, however, yet floating; and, though not visi- 
to Mulford, with a small portion of it above water. He saw the 
four persons only; arad what was more, they saw him. This was 
evident by Jack Tier’s waving his hat like a man cheering. When 
Mulford returned this signal, the shawl of Rose was tos.'^ed into the 
air, in a way to leave no (Joubt that he was seen and known. 1 he 
explanation of this early recognition and discovery of the young 
mate was very simple. Tier was not asleep when Harry left the 
wreck, though, seeing the importance of the step the other was tak- 
ing, he had feigned to be so. When Rose awoke, missed her lover, 
and was told what had happened, her heart was kept from sinking 
by his encouraging tale and hopes. An hour of agony had suc- 
43eeded, nevertheless, when light returned and no Mulford was to 
seen. The despair that burst upon the heart of our heroine was fm’- 
3owed by the joy of discovering him on the rock. ^ 

It is scarcely necessary to say how much the parties were relieved 



N 


JACK TIER. 


in 

on ascertaining their respective positions. Faint as were the hopes 
of each of eventual delivery, the two or three niinutes that succeeded 
seemed to be minutes of perfect happiness. After this rush of iiu- 
,;j|poked-for joy, Mulford continued his intelligent examination of 
surrounding objects. 

The wreck was fully half a mile from the rock of the mate, but 
much nearer to the reef than it had been the previous night. “ Could 
it but ground on the rocks,” thougnt the young man, “ it would be 
a most blessed event.” The thing was "possible, though the first 
half hour of his observations told him that its drift was in the direc- 
tion of the open passage so often named, rather than toward the 
nearest rocks. Still, that drift brought Rose each minute nearer 
and nearer to himself again. In looking round, how^ever, the 
young man saw the boat. It was a quarter of a mile distant, with 
open water between them, apparently grounded on a rock, for it 
w^as more within the reef than he was himself. He must have 
passed it in the dark, and the boat had been left to obey the wind 
and currents, and to drift to the spot where it then lay. 

Mulford shouted aloud when he saw the boat, and at once deter- 
mined to swim in quest of it, as soon as he had collected a little re- 
freshment from among the sea-weed. On taking a look at his rock 
by daylisrht, he saw that its size was quadrupled to the eye by the 
falling of the tide, and that water was lying in several of the cavities 
of its uneven surface. At first he supposed this to be sca-waleiv 
left by the flood; but, reflecting a moment, he remembered the rain,, 
and hoped it might be possible that one little cavity, containing two 
or three gallons of the fluid, would turn out to be fresh. Kneeling 
beside it, he applied his lips in feverish haste, and drank the sweetest 
draught that had ever passed his lips. Slaking his thirst, which 
had begun again to be painfully severe, he arose with a heart over- 
flowing with gratitude — could he only get Rose to that narrow and 
barren rock it would seem to be an earthly paradise. Mulford next 
made his scanty but, all things considered, sutflcient meal, drank 
moderately jafterward, and then turned his attention and energies 
toward the boat, which, though now aground and fast, might soon 
float on the rising tide, and drift once more beyond his reach. It 
w'as his first intention to swim directly for his object; but, just 
wheor^about to enter the water, he saw with horror the fine of at 
least a dozen sharks, which were prowling about in the deeper water 
of the reef, and almost encircling his hold. To throw himself in the 
midst of such enemies would be madness, and he stopped to reflect, 
and again to look about him. For the first time lliat morniag, he 
took a survey of the entire horizon, to see if anything were in sight; 
for, hitherto, his thoughts had been too much occupied with Rose 
and her companions to remember anything else. To the northward 
and westward he distinctly saw the upper sails of a large ship, that 
'was standing on a wind to the northward and eastward. As there 
w'as no port to which a vessel of that character would be likely to 
be bound in the quarter of the Gulf to which such a course would 
'»'lead, Mulford at once inferred it was the sloop-of -war, which, after 
having examined the islets at the Dry Tortugas, and finding them 
deserted, was beating up either to go into Key West, or to pass to 
the southward of the reef again, by the passage through which she 


172 


JACK TIER. 


liad come as lately as the pievious day. This was highly encoura- 
ging; and could he only get to the boat, and remove the party trom 
the wreck before it sunk, there w^as now every prospect of a final 
escape. .m 

To the southward, also, the mate fancied he saw a sail. It was 
probably a much smaller vessel than the ship in the north-west, and 
at a greater distance. It might, however, be the lofty sails of some 
large craft, standing along the reef, going westward, bound to Isew 
Orleans, or to that new and important port. Point Isabel; or it might 
be some wrecker, or other craft, edging away into the passage. As 
tt-w^as, it appeared only as a speck in the horizon, and was too far 
off to offer much prospect of succor. 

Thus acquainted with the state of things around him, Mulford 
gave his attention seriously to his duties. He was chiefly afraid 
that the returning tide miglff lilt the boat from the rock on which 
it had grounded, and that it would float beyond his reach. Then 
there was the frightful and ever-increasing peril of the wreck, and 
the dreadful fate that so inevitably menaced those that it held, 
were not relief prompt. This thought goaded him nearly to des- 
peration, and he felt at moments almost ready to plunge into the 
midst of the sharks, and tight his way to his object. 

But reflection showed him a less hazardous way of making an 
effort to reach the boat. The sharks’ fins described a semi-circle 
only, as had been the case of his single attendant during the night, 
and he thought that the shoalness of the water Dieveuted their 
going further than they did in a south-easterly direction, which was 
that of the boat. He well knew that a shark required sufficient 
water to sink beneath its prey, ere it made its swoop, and that it 
uniformly turned on its back, and struck upward whenever it gave 
one of its voracious bites. This was owing to the trreater length of 
its upper than of its lower jaw, and Mulford had heard it was a 
physical necessity of its formation. Right or wrong, he determined 
to act on this theory, and began at once to wade along the part of 
the reef that his enemies seemed unwilling to approach. 

Had our young mate a weapon of any sort larger than his knife, 
he would have felt greater confidence in his success. As it was, 
however, he drew that knife, and was prepared to sell his life dearly 
should a foe assail him. No sooner was his step heard in the water, 
than the whole group of sharks were set in violent motion, glancing 
past, and frequently quite near him, as if aware their intended 
prey was about to escape. Had the water deepened much, Harry 
would have returned at once, for a conflict with such numbers 
would have been hopeless; but It did not; on the contrary, it shoaled 
again, after a very short distance, at which it had been waist-deep; 
and Mulford found himself wading over a long, broad surface of 
rock and that directly toward the boat, through water that seldom 
rose above his knees, and which occasionally scarce covered his 
feet. There was no absolutely naked rock near him, but there 
seemed to be acres of that which might be almost said to be awash. 
Amid the greedy throng that endeavored to accompany him, the 
mate even fancied he recognized the enormous fins of his old com- 
panion, who sailed to and fro in the crowd in a stately manner, as if 
merely a curious looker-on of his own movements. It was the 


JACK TIER. 


173 

smaller, and probably the younger sharks, that betrayed the great- 
est hardihood and voracit5^ One or two ot these made fierce 
swoops toward Harry, as if bent on having him at every hazard; 
but they invariably glided ofi: when they found their customary 
mode of attack resisted by the shoalness of the water. 

Our young mate got ahead but slowly, being obliged to pay a cau- 
tious attention to the movements of his escort. Sometimes he was 
compelled to wade up to his arms in order to cross narrow places, 
that he might get on portions of the rock that were nearly bare; and 
once he was actually compelled to swim eight or ten yards. Never- 
theless, he did get on, and after an hour of this sort of work, he 
found himself within a hundred yards of the boat, which lay 
grounded near a low piece of naked rock, but separated from it by 
a channel of deep water, into which all the sharks rushed in a body, 
as if expressly to cut off his escape. Mulford now paused to take 
breath, and to consider what ought to be done. On the spot w^here 
he stood he was quite safe; though ankle-deep in the sea, the shal- 
low- water extending to a considerable distance on all sides of him, 
with the single exception of the channel in his front. He stood on 
the very verge of that channel, and could see, in the pellucid ele- 
ment before him, that it was deep enough to float a ytssel of some 
size. 

To venture into the midst of twenty sharks required desperation, 
and Harry was not yet reduced to that. He had been so busy in 
making his way to the point where he stood, as to have no leisure 
to look for the wreck; but he now turned his eyes in quest of that 
all-interesting object. He saw the shawl fluttering in the breeze, 
and that was all he could see. Tier had contrived to keep it flying 
as a signal where he was to be found, but the hull of the schooner 
had sunK so low in the water, that they who were sealed on its 
keel were not visible, even at the short distance which now sepa- 
rated them from Mulford. Encouraged by this signal, and animated 
by the revived hope of still saving his companions, Harry turned to- 
ward the channel, half inclined to face every danger rather than to 
wait any lohger. At that moment the fins were all gliding along 
the channel from him, and in the same direction. Some object drew 
the sharks away in a body, and the young mate let himself easily 
into the water, and swam as noiselessly as he could toward the 
boat. 

It was a fearful trial, but Mulford felt that everything depended 
on his success. Stimulated by his motive and strengthened by the 
food and w'ater taken an hour before, never had he shown so much 
skill and power in the winter. In an incredibly short period he w\as 
half- wav across the channel, still swimming strong and unharmed. 
A tew strokes more sent him so near the boat that hope took full 
possession of his soul, and he shouted in exultation. That indis- 
creet but natural cry, uttered sc near the surface of the sea, turned 
every shark upon him, as the pack springs at the fox in view. 
Mulford was conscious ot the folly of his cry the instant it escaped 
him, and involuntarily he t urned his head to note the effect on his 
enemies. Every fin was gliding toward him — a dark array of swift 
and furious foes. Ten thousand bayonets, leveled in their line, 
could not have been one half as terrible, and tlie efforts ot the 


JACK TIER. 


ir4 

young man became nearly frantic. But strong as he was, and ready 
in the element, what is the movement of a man in the water com- 
pared to that of a vigorous and voracious fish? Mulford could see 
lliose fins coming on like a tempest, and he had just given up all 
hope, and was feeling his flesh creep with terror, when his foot hit 
the rock. Giving himself an onward plunge, he threw his body 
upward toward the boat, and into so much shoaler water, at least a 
dozen feet by that single efiort. Recovering his legs as soon as 
possible, he turned to look behind him. The water seemed alive 
with fins, each pair gliding back and forth, as the bull- dog bounds 
in front of the ox’s muzzle. Just then a light-colored object 
glanced past the young man, so near as almost to touch him. It 
was a shark that had actually turned on its back to seize its prey, 
and was only prevented from succeeding by being driven from the 
line of its course by hitting the slimy rock, over which it was com- 
pelled to make its plunge. The momentum with which it came on, 
added to the inclination of the rock, forced the head and half of 
the body of this terrible assailant into the air, giving the intended 
victim an opportunity of seeing from what a fate he had escaped. 
Mulford avoided the fish without much trouble, however, and the 
nt'xt instant he threw himself into the boat, on the bottom of 
which he lay panting with the violence of his exertions, and unable 
to move under the reaction which now came over his system. 

The mate lay in the bottom of the boat, exhausted and unable to 
rise, for several minutes; during that space he devoutly returned 
thanks to God for his escape, and bethought him of the course he 
was next to pursue, in order to effect the rescue of his companions. 
The boat was larger than common. It was also well equipped — a 
mast and sail lying along with the oars, on its thwarts. The rock 
placed Harry to windward of the wreck, and by the time he felt 
sufficiently revived to rise and look about him, his plan of proceed- 
ing wms fully arranged in his own mind. Among other things that 
he saw, as he still lay in the bottom of the boat, was a breaker 
which he knew contained fresh water, and a bread-bag. These 
were provisions that it was customary for the men to make, when 
employed on boat duty; and the articles had been left where he now 
saw them, in the hurry of the movements, as the brig quitted the 
islets. 

Harry rose the instant he felt his strength returning. Striking the 
breaker with his foot, and feeling the basket with a hand, he as- 
certained tnat one held its water, and the other its bread. This was 
immense relief, for by this time the sufferings of the party on the 
wreck must be returning with redoubled force. The mate then 
stepped the mast, and fitted the sprit to the sail, knowing that the 
latter would be seen fluttering in the wind by those on the wreck, 
and carry joy to their hearts. After this considerate act, he began to 
examine into the position of the boat. It was still aground, having 
been left by the tide; but the water had already risen several inches* 
and by placing himself on the gun\^ale, so as to bring the boat on 
its bilge, and pushing with an oar, he soon got into deep water. It 
only remained to haul aft the sheet, and right the helm, to be stand- 
ing through the channel, at a rate that promised a speedy deliver- 
ance to his friends, and most of all, to Rose. 


JACK TIER. 


175 


MuUorcl glanced past the rocks and shoals, attended by the whole 
company ot the sharks. They moved betore, behind, and oii each 
side ot him, as if unwilling to abandon their prey, even after he 
had got beyond the limits of their power to do him harm. It was 
not an easy thing to manage the boat in that narrow and crooked 
channel, with no other guide for the courses than the eye, and it 
required so much of the mate’s vigHance to keep clear of the sharp 
angles ot the rocks, that he could not once cast his eyes aside, to 
look for the fluttering shawl, which now composed the standing 
signal of the wreck. A.t length the boat shot through the last pas- 
sage ot the reef, and issued into open water. Mulford knew that he 
must coiiie out half a mile at least to leeward of his object, and 
without even raising his head, he flattened in the sheet, put his 
helm down, and luffed close to the wind. Then, and then only, did 
he venture to look around him. 

Our mate felt his heart leap toward his mouth as he observed the 
present state of the wreck. It was dead to windward ot him, in the 
first place, and it seemed to be entirely submerged. He saw the 
shawl fluttering as before; tor Tier had fastened one corner to a 
button-hole of his own jacket, and another to the dress of Biddy, 
leaving the part which might be called the fly, to rise at moments 
almost perpendicularly in the air, in a way to render it visible, at 
some distance. He saw also the heads and the bodies of those on 
the schooner’s bottom, but to him they appeared to be standing in, 
or on, the water. The distance may have contributed a little to 
this appearance, but no doubt remained that so much air had es- 
caped from the hold of the vessel, as to permit it to sink altogether 
beneath the surface of the sea. It was time, indeed, to proceed to 
the relief of the sufferers, . 

Notwithstanding the boat sailed particularly fast, and worked 
beautifully, it could not equal the impatience of Mulford to get on. 
Passing away to the northeast a sufficient distance, as he thought, 
to weather on the wfeck, the j'oung man tacked at last, and had the 
happiness to see that every foot he proceeded was now in a direct 
line toward Rose.- It was only while tacking he perceived that all 
the fins had disappeared. He felt little doubt that they had deserted 
him, i^r order to push for the wreck, which offered so much larger, 
and so much more attainable prey. This increased his feverish 
desire to get on, the boat seeming to drag, in his eyes, at the very 
moment it wa«i leaving a wake full of eddies and little whirlpools. 
The wind was steady, but it seemed to 'Mulford that the boat was 
set to leeward of her course by a current, though this could iiardly 
have been the case, as the wreck, the Sole mark of his progress, 
would have had at least as great a drift as the boat. At length 
Mulford — to him it appeared to be an age; in truth, it was after a 
run of about twenty minutes— -came near the goal he so earnestly 
sought, and got an accurate view of the state of the wreck, and of 
those on it. The hull of the schooner had, in truth, sunk entirely 
beneath the surface of the sea; and the party it sustained stood 
already knee-deep in the water. This was sufficiently appalling; 
but the presence of the sharks, who were crowding around the spot, 
rendered the whole scene frightful. - To the young mate it seemed 
as if he must still be too late to save Rose from a fate more terrible 


176 


JACK TIER. 


than drowning, for the boat fell so far to leeward as to compel him' 
to tack once more. As he swept past the w^reck he called out to 
encourage his friends, begging them to be of good heart for five’ 
minutes longer, when he should be able to reach them. Rose held 
out her arms entreatingly, and the screams of Mrs. Budd and Biddy, 
which were extorted by the closer and closer approach of the sharks, 
proclaimed the imminency of the "danger they ran, and the im- 
portance of not losing a moment of time. 

Mulford took his distance with a seaman’s eye, and the boat went 
about like a top. The latter fell oft, and the sail filled on the other 
lack. Then the young mariner saw, witn a joy no description can 
portray, that he looked to windward of the fluttering shawl, toward 
which his little craft was already flying. He afterward, believed 
that shawl alone prevented the voracious party of hsh from assail- 
ing those on the wreck, for, though there might not yet be sufficient 
depth of water to allow of their customary mode of attack, crea- 
tures of their voracity did not always wait for such conveniences. 
But the boat was soon in the midst of the fins, scattering them in 
all directions; and Mulford let go the sheet, put his helm down, 
and sprang forward to catch the extended arms of Rose. 

It might have been accident, or it might have been the result ot 
skill and interest in our heroine, but certain it is, that the bows of 
the boat came on the wreck precisely at the place where Rose stood,, 
and her hand was the first object that the young man touched. 

“ Take my aunt first,” cried Rose, resisting Mulford’s efforts to 
lift her into the boat; “she is dreadfully alarmed, and can stand 
with difficult3\ ” 

Although two of Rose’s activity and lightness might have been 
drawn into the boat, while the process was going on in behalf of 
the widow, Mulford lost no time in discussion, but did as he was 
desired. First directing Tier to hold on to the painter, he applied 
his strength to the arms of Mrs. Budd, and, assisted by Rose and 
Biddy, got her safely into the boat, over its bows. Rose now 
waited not for assistance, buffollowed her aunt with a haste that 
praved fear lent her strength in despite her long fast. Biddy came- 
next, though clumsily, and not without trouble, and Jack Tier fol- 
lowed the instant he was permitted so to do. Of course, the boat, 
no longer held Dy its painter, drifted away from the spot, and the 
hull of the schooner, relieved from the weight of four human 
beings, rose so near the surface again as to bring a small line of its 
keel out of water. No better evidence could have been given of 
the trifling power which sustained it, and of the timely nature of 
the succor brought by Mulford. Had the boat remained near the 
schooner it would have been found half an hour later that the hull 
had sunk slowly out of sight, finding its way, doubtless, inch by 
inch, toward the bottom of the Gulf. 

By this time the sun was w'ell up, and the warmth of the hour, 
season, and latitude, was shed on the sufferers. There was an old 
sail in the boat, and in this the party dried their limbs and feet, 
which were getting to be numb by their long immersion. Then the 
mate produced the bag and opened it, in cpiest of bread. A small 
portion was given to egch, anffi on looking further, the mate dis- 
covered that a piece of boiled^il)’s beet had been secreted in this 


JACK TIEll. 177 

receptacle. Ot this also he gave each a moderate slice, lakiag a 
larger portion for himselt, as requiring less precaution. The suffer- 
ing of the party from hunger was far less than that tliey endured 
from thirst, hfeither had been endured long enough seriously to> 
enfeeble them or render a full meal very dangerous, but the thirst 
had been much the hardest to be borne. Of this fact Biddy soon 
gave audible evidence. 

“ The mate is good,” she said, “ and the bread tastes swate and 
refreshing, but wather is a blessed thing. Can you no give us one 
dhrap of the water that falls frorn heaven, Mr. Mulford? for this 
wather ot the saa is of no use but to drown Christians in.” 

In an instant the mate bad opened a breaker, and filled the tin 
pot which is almost always to be found in a boat. Biddy said no 
more, but her eyes pleaded so eloquently that Rose begged the 
faithful creature might have the first drink. One eager swallow 
went down, and then a cry ot disappointment succeeded. The 
water was salt, and had been put in the breaker for ballast. The 
other breaker was tried with the same success. 

‘‘ It is terrible to be without one drop of water,” murmured Rose, 
” and this food makes it more necessary than ever.” 

” Patience, patience, dearest Rose — patience for ten minutes, a'nd 
you shall all drink,” answered the mate, filling the sail and keep- 
ing the boat away while speaking. ‘‘There’s water, God be 
praised, on the rock to which I first swum, and we will secure it 
before another day’s sun help to make it evaporate.” 

This announcement quieted the loggings of those who endured a 
thirst which disappointment rendered doubly hard to bear; and 
away the boat glided toward the rock. As lie now flew over the 
distance, lessened more than one-half by the drift of the wreck, 
Mulford recalled The scene through which he had so painfully 
passed the previous night. As often happens, he shuddered at the- 
recollection of things which, at the moment, a desperate resolution 
had- enabled him. to encounter with firmness. Still, he thought 
nothing less than the ardent desire to save Rose could have carried 
him through the trial with the success which attended his struggles. 
The deaf being at his side asked a few explanations of what had 
passed; and she bowed her head and wept, equally with pain and 
delight, as imagination pictured to her the situation of her betrothed, 
amid that waste of water, with his fearful companions, and all in 
the hours of deep night. 

But that was over now. There was the rock — the blessed rock 
on which Mulford had ^ accidentally struck, close before them— 
and presently they were, all on it. The mate look the pot and ran 
to the little reservoir, returning with a sweet draught for each of 
the party. 

“A blessed, blessed thing, is wather!” exclaimed Biddy, this 
time finding the relief she sought, “and a thousand blessings on 
you, Mr. Mulford, who have niver done us anything but good.” 

Rose looked a still higher eulogy on the young man, and even 
Mrs. Budd had somethmg commendatory and grateful to say. 
Jack Tier was silent, but he had all his eyes about him as he now- 
proved. 

‘‘ We’ve all on us been so much taken up with our own affairs,’” 


JACK Tlf:K. 


178 

remarked the steward’s assistant, “ that we’ve taken hut little notice 
of the neighborhood. It that isn’t the biig, Mr. Mulford, running 
through this very passage, with stun’- sails set alow and aloft, 1 
don’t know the ‘ Molly Swash ’ when 1 see her!” 

“ The brig!” exclaimed the mate, recollecting the vessels he had 
seen at the break of day, tor the first time in hours. “ Can it be 
possible that the craft I made out to the southward is the brig?” 

” Look and judge for yourself, sir. There she comes, like a 
race-horse, and it she holds her present course, she must pass some- 
where within a mile or so of us, if we slay where we are.” 

Mulford did look, as did all with him. There was the ” Swash,’' 
sure enough, coming down before the wind, and under a cloud of 
canvas. She might be still a league, or a league and a half distant, 
but, at the rate at which she was traveling, that distance would 
soon be past. She was running through the passage, no doubt with 
a view to proceed to the Dry Tortugas, to look after the schooner. 
Spike having the hope that he had dodged his pursuers on the 
coast of Cuba. The mate now looked for the ship in the north- 
western board, believing, as he did, that she was the sloop-of-war. 
That vessel had gone about, and was standing to the southward, on 
a taut bowline. She was still a long way off, three or tour leagues 
at least, but the change she had made in her position, since last 
seen, proved that she was a great sailer. Then she was more than 
hull down, whereas, now, she was near enough to let the outline of 
a long, straight fabric be discovered beneath her canvas. 

It is hardly possible that Sj;)ike should not see the vessel here in 
the northern board,” Mulford observed to Tier, wTio had been 
examining the ship with him. ” The lookout is usually good on 
board the ‘ Swash,’ and, just now, should certainly be as good as 
common. Spike is no dawdler wdth serious business before him.” 

” He’s a willain!” muttered Jack Tier. 

The mate regarded his companion with some surprise. Jack was 
a very insignificant-looking personage in common, and one would 
scarcely pause to give him a second look, unless it might be to 
laugh at his rotundity and little waddling legs. But, now, the mate 
fancied he was swelling with feelings that actually imparted some- 
what more than usual stature and dignity to his appearance. His 
face was full of indignation, and there was something about the 
eye, that to Mulford was inexplicable. As Rose, however, had re- 
lated to him the scene that took place on the islet, at the moment 
when Bpike was departing, the mate supposed that Jack still felt a 
portion of the resentment that -such a collision would be apt to 
create. Prom the expression of Jack’s countenance at that instant, 
it struck him Bpike might, not be exactly safe, should accident put 
it in the power of the former to do him an injury. 

It was now necessary to decide on the course that ought to be 
pursued. The bag contained sufficient food to last the part}'- several 
days, and a gallon of w'ater still remained in the cavity of the rock. 
This last was collected and put in one of the breakers, which was 
emptied of the salt water in order to receive it. As water, however, 
w'as the great necessity in that latitude, Mulford did not deem it 
prudent to set sail with so small a supply, and he accoi’dingly com- 
menced a search, on some of the adjacent rocks, Jack Tier accom- 


JACK TIER. 


m 

panyihg him. They succeeded in doubling their stock of wateiv 
and collected several sliell-fish, that (he females found exceedingly 
grateful and refreshing. On the score of hunger and thirst, indeed, 
uaoue was now suffering. By judiciously sipping a little water at 
a time, and retaining it in the mouth before swallowing, the latter 
painful feeling had been gotten rid of; and as for food, there was 
even more than was actually needed, and that of a very good qual- 
ity. It is probable that standing in the water for hours, as Rose, 
and her aunt, and Biddy had been obliged to do, had contributed 
to lessen the pain endured from thirst, though they had all suffered 
a good deal from that cause, especially while the sun shone. 

Mulford and Tier were half an hour in obtaining the water,. By 
the end of that period the brigantine was so near as to render her 
hull distinctly visible. It was high time to decide on their future 
course. The sail had been brailed when the boat reached (he rock, 
and the boat itself lay on the side of the latter opposite to the brig,, 
and where no part of it could be seen to those on board the 
“ Swash,” with the exception of the mast. Under the circum- 
stances, therefore, Mulford thought it wisest to remain where they 
were, and let the vessel pass, before they attempted to proceed 
toward Key West, their intended place of refuge. In order to do 
this, how'ever, it was necessary to cause the whole party to lie down 
in such a way as to be hid by the inequalities in the rock, as it was 
now very evident the brig would pass within half a mile of them. 
Hitherto, it was not probable that they had been seen, and by using 
due caution, the chances of Spike’s overlooking them altogether 
amounted nearly to a certainty. 

The necessary arrangements were soon made, the boat’s mast un- 
stepped, the party placed behind their covers, and the females com- 
fortably bestowed in the spare sail, where they might get a little un- 
disturbed sleep after the dreadful night, or morning, they had passed. 
Even Jack Tier lay down to catch his nap, as the rpost useful man- 
ner of bestowing "himself for a couple of hours; the time Mulford 
had mentioned as the period of their stay where they were. 

As fbi: the mate, vigilance was his portion, and he took his 
position, hid like all the rest, where he could watch the movements of 
his old craft. In about twenty minutes, the brig was quite near; so 
near that Mulford not only saw the people on board her, who 
showed themselves in the rigging, but fancied he could recognize 
their persons. As yet nothiiig had occurred in the way of change, 
but just as the “ Swash ” got abreast of the rock, she began to take 
in her studding-sails, and that hurriedly, as is apt to occur on board 
a vessel in sudden emergencies. Our young man was a little alarmed 
at first, believing that they might have been discovered, but he was 
soon induced to think that the crew of the brigantine had just then 
begun to suspect the character of the ship to the northward. That 
vessel had been drawing near all this time, and was now only some 
three leagues distant. Owing to the manner in which she headed, 
or bows on, it was not a very easy matter to tell the character of 
this stranger, though the symmetry and squareness of his yards ren- 
dered it nearly certain he was a cruiser. Though Spike could not 
expect to meet his old acquaintance, here, after^ the chase he had so 
lately led her down on the opposite coast, he might and would have 


JACK TIER. 


180 

his misgivings, and Mulford thought it was his intention to haul up 
close round the northern angle of the reef, and maintain his advan- 
tage of the w’ind over the stranger. If this were actually done, it 
might expose the boat to view, for the brig would pass within a 
•quarter of a mile of it, and on the side of the rock on tvhich it lay. 
It was too late, however, to attempt a change, since the appejfrance, 
of human beings in such a place would be certain to draw the brig’s 
glasses on them, and the glasses must at once let Spike know who 
they were. It remained, therefore, only to await the result as 
patiently as possible. 

A very few minutes removed all doubt. The brig hauled as close 
round the reef as she dared to venture, and in a very short time the 
boat lay exposed to view to all on board her, 1 he vessel was now 
so near that Mulford plainly saw the boatswain get upon the coach- 
house, or little hurricane-house-deck, where Spike stood examining 
the ship with his glass, and point out the boat, where it lay at the 
side of the rock. In an instant, the glass was leveled at the spot, 
ana the movements on board the brig immediately betrayed to Mul- 
ford that the boat was recognized. Sail was shortened on board 
the “ Swash,” and men were seen preparing to low’'er her stern boat, 
while everything indicated that the vessel was about to be hoye-to. 
There was no time now to be lost, but the young man immediately 
gave the alarm. • 

No sooner did the party arise and show themselves, than the crew 
of the ” Swash ” gave three cheers. By ihe aid of the glass. Spike 
doubtless recognized their persons, and the fact was announced to 
the men, by way of stimulating their exertions. This gave an ad- 
ditional spur to the movements of those on the rock, who hastened 
into their own boat, and made sail as soon as possible. 

It was far easier to do all that has been described, than to deter- 
mine on the future course. Capture was certain it the fugitives 
ventured into the open water, and their only hope was to remain on 
the reel . If channels for the passage of the boat could be found,’ 
escape was highly probable, as the schooner’s boat could sail much 
faster than the brig’s boat could row, fast as Mulford knew the last 
to be. But the experience of the morning had told the mate that 
the rock rose too near the surface, in many places, for the boat, small 
as it was, to pass over it; and he must trust a great deal to chance. 
Away he went, however, standing along a narrow channel, through 
which the wind just permitted him to lay, with the sail occasionally 
shaking. 

By this time the ” Swash ” had her boat in the water, manned with 
four powerful oars. Spike steering it in his own peison. Our young 
mate placed Tier in the bows, to point out the deepest water, and 
kept his sail a rap-full, in order to get ahead as last as possible. 
Ahead he did get, but it was on a course that soon brought him out 
in the open water of the main passage through the reef, leaving 
Spike materially astern. The latter now rose in his boat, and made 
a signal with his hat, which the boatswain perfectly understood. 
The latter caused the brig to w^ear short round on her heel, and 
boarded his fore-tack in chase, hauling up into the passage as soon 
as ne could again round the reef. Mulford soon saw thal it would 
never do for him to venture far Irom the rocks, the brig going two 


JACK TIER. 


181 


ieet to his one, though not looking quite so high as he did in the 
boat. But the “ Swash ” had her guns, and it was probable thej’’ 
would be used ratJier than he should escape. When distant two 
hundred yards from the reef, therefore, he tacked. The new course 
brought the fugitives nearly at right angles to that steered by Spike, 
who stood directly on, as it conscious that, sooner or later, such a 
rencounter must "occur. It would seem that the tide was setting 
through the passage; tor when the boat ot Multord again reached 
the reef, it was considerably to windward of the channel out of 
which she had issued, and opposite to another which offered very 
opportunely tor her entrance. Into this new channel, then, the mate 
somewhat blindly ran, feeling the necessity of getting out of gun- 
shot of the brig at every hazard. She at least could not follow him 
among the rocks, let Spike, in his boat, proceed as he might. 

According to appearances. Spike was not likely to be very suc- 
cessful. - He was obliged to diverge from his course, in order to go 
into the main passage at the very point where Mulford had just be- 
fore done the same thing, and pull along the reef to windward, in 
order to get into the new channel, into which the boat he was pur- 
suing had just entered. This brought him not only astern again, , 
but a long bit astern, inasmuch as he was compelled to make the 
circuit described. On he went, however, as eager in the chase as the 
hound with his game in view. 

Mulford’s boat seemed to fly, and glided ahead at least three feet 
to that of Spike’s two. The direction of the channel it was in, 
brought it pretty close to the wind, but the water was quite smooth, 
and our mate managed to keep the sail full, and his little craft at 
the same time quite near the weatherly side of the rocks. In the 
course of ten minutes the fugitives were fully a mile from the brig, 
which was unable to follow them, but kept standing off and on, in 
the main passage, waiting the result. At one time Multord thought 
the channel would bring him out into open water again, on the 
northern side of the reef, and more than a mile to the eastward ot 
the point where the ship-channel in which the “ Sw^ash ” was plying 
commenced; but an accidental circumstance prevented his standing 
in far enough to ascertain the fact. That circumstance was as fol- 
lows: 

In running a mile and a half over the reef, in the manner de- 
scribed, Mulford had left the boat of Spike quite half a mile astern. 
Jle was now out of gunshot from the brig, or at least beyond the 
range of her grape, the only missile he feared, and so far to wind- 
ward that he kept his eye on every opening to the southward, 
which he fancied might allow of his making a stretch deeper into 
the mazes of the reel, among which he believed it easiest for him 
to escape, and to weary the oarsmen of his pursuers. Two or three 
of these openings offered as he glided along, but it struck him that 
they all looked so high that the boat would not lay through them— 
an opinion in which he was right. At length he came abreast of 
one that seemed straight and clear of obstacles as far as he could 
see, and through which he might run with a flowing sheet. Down 
went his helm, and about went his boat, running away to the south- 
ward as fast as ever. 

Had Spike followed, doubled the same shoal, and kept away 


182 


JACK TIER. 


again in the same channel as bad been done by the boat he chased, 
all his hopes ot success must have vanished at once. This he did 
not attempt, tlieretore; but, sheering into one of the openings- 
which the mate had rejected, he cut off quite half a mile in his 
distance. This was easy enough for him to accomplish, as a row- 
boat would pull even easier, near to the wind, than with the wind 
broad on its bow. In consequence of this shortcut, therefore. Spike 
was actually crossing out into Mulford’s new channel, just as the 
latter had handsomely cleared the mouth of the opening through 
which he effected his purpose. 

It is scarcely necessary to say, that the two boats must have been 
for a few minutes quite near to each other; so near, indeed, did the 
fugitives now pass to their pursuers, that it would have been easy 
for them to h aye conversed, had (hey been so disposed. IMot a word 
was spoken, however; but Mulford went by, leaving Spike about a 
hundred yards astern. This was a trying moment to the latter, and 
the devil tempted him to seek his revenge. He had not come un- 
armed on his enterprise, but three or four loaded muskets lay in the 
stern-sheets of his yawl. He looKed at his men, and saw" that they 
could not hold out much longer to pull as they had been pulling. 
Then he looked at Multord’s boat, and saw it gliding avray from him 
at a rate that would shortly place it another half mile in advance. 
He seized a mugket, and raised it to his shoulder, nay, was in the 
act ot taking aim at his mate, when Rose, who watched his move- 
ments, threw herself before Harry, and if she did not actually save 
his life, at least prevented Spike’s attempt on it for that occasion. 
In the course of the next ten minutes the fugitives had again so far 
gained on their pursuers, that the latter began to see that their 
efforts were useless. Spike muttered a few bitter curses, and told 
his men to lay on their oars. 

“ It’s well for the runaway,” he added, ” that the gal put herself 
between us, else would his grog have been stopped forever. I’ve 
long suspected this; but had I been sure of it, the Qiilf Stream would 
have had the keeping of his body, the first dark night we were in it 
together. Lay on your oars, men, lay on your oars: I’m af eared 
the villain will get through our fingers, a’ter all.” 

The men obeyed, and then, for the first time, did they turn their 
heads, to look at those they had been so vehemently pursuing. The 
other boat was quite half a mile from them, audit had again tacked. 
This last occurrence induced Spike to pull slowly ahead, in quest 
ot another short passage to cut the fugitives off; but no such open- 
ing offered. 

‘‘ There he goes about again, by George!” exclaimed Spike. 
” Give way, lads — give way; an easy stroke, for if he is embayed, 
he can’t escape usl” 

Sure enough, poor Mulford was embayed, and could see no out- 
let by which to pass ahead. He tacked his boat two or three times, 
and he wore round as often ; but on every side, shoals, or rocks 
that actually rose above the surface of the water, impeded his 
course. . The fact was not to be concealed; after all his efforts, and 
so many promises of success, not only was his further progress 
ahead cut off, but equally so was retreat. The passage was not 
wide enough to admit the hope of getting by his pursuers, and the 


JACK TIER. 


183 


young man came to the conclusion that his better course Vras to sub- 
mit with dignity to his fate. For himself he had no hope — he knew 
Spike’s character too w’ell for that; but he did not apprehend any 
gteat immediate danger to his companions. Spike had a coarse, 
brutal admiration for Rose; but her expected fortune, which was 
believed to be of more amount than was actually the case, was a 
sort of pleage that be would not willingly put himself in a situation 
that would prevent the possibility of enjoying it. Strange, hurried, 
and somewhat confused thoughts passed through Harry Mulford’s 
mind, as he brailed his sail, and waited for his captors to approach 
and take possession of his boat and himself. This was done quiet- 
ly, and with very few words on the part of Spike. 

Mulford would have liked the appearance of things better had 
his old commander cursed him, and betrayed other signs of the fury 
that was boiling in his very soul. On the contrary, never had 
Stephen Spike seemed more calm, or under better self-command. 
He smiled, and saluted Mrs, Budd, just as if nothing unpleasant 
had occurred, and alluded to the sharpness of the chase with face- 
tiousness and seeming good-humor. The females were deceived by 
this manner, and hoped, after all, that the worst that would happen 
would be a return to their old position on board the “ Swash.” 
This was being so much better off than their horrible situation on 
the wreck, that the change was not frightful to them. 

” What has become of the schooner, Mr. Mulford?” asked Spike, 
as the boats began to pass down the channel to return to the brig — 
two of the “Swash’s” men taking their seats in that which had 
been captured, along with their commander, while the other two 
got a tow from the use of the sail. “ 1 see you have the boat here 
that we used alongside of her, and suppose you know something of 
the craft itself.” 

“ She capsized with us in a squall,” answered the mate, “and 
we only left the wreck this morning.” 

“ Capsized! — bum— that was a hard fate, to be sure, and denotes 
bad seamanship. Now I’ve sailed all sortU^ of craft these forty 
years, qr five-and-thirty at least, and never capsized anything in 
my life.^ Stand by there for’ard, to hold on by that rock.” 

A solitary cap of the coral rose above the water two or three feet, 
close to the channel, and was the ruck to which Spike alluded. It 
was only some fifty feet in diameter, and of an oval form, rising 
quite above the ordinary tides, as was apparent by its appearance, 
it is scarcely necessary to say it had no other fresh w^ater than that 
which occasionally fell on its surface, which surface being quite 
smooth, retained very little of the rain it received. The boat was soon 
alongside of this rock, where it was held broadside-to by the two 
seamen. 

“Mr, Mulford, do me the favor to step up here,” said Spike, 
leading the way on to the rock himself. “ 1 have a word to say to 
you before we get on board the old ‘ Moll^ ’ once more.” 

Mulford silently complied, fully expecting that Spike intended to 
blow his brains out, and willing the bloody deed should be done in 
a way to be as little shocking to Rose as circumstances would 
allow. But Spike manifested no such intention. A q^ore refined 
cruelty was uppermost in his mind; and his revenge was calculated, 


JACK TIER. 


184 

and tooK care to fortify itself with some of the quibbles and artf^ 
lices of the law. He might not be exactly right in his legal reserva- 
tions, but he did not the less rely on their virtue. 

“ Hark’ee, Mr. Multord,” said Spike sharply, as soon as both 
were on the rock, “ you have run from my brig, thereby showing: 
your distaste for her; and I’ve no disposition to keep a man wdio 
wishes to quit me. Here you are, sir, on terrum firm, as the 
scholars call it; and here you have my full permission to remain. 1 
wish you a good-morning, sir; and will not fail to report, when we 
get in, that you left the brig of your own pleasure.” 

” You will not have the cruelty to abandon me on this naked 
rock. Captain Spike, and that without a morsel of food, or a drop 
of water?” 

” Wathpsr is a blessed thing!” exclaimed Biddy. ‘‘ Do not think 
of lavin’ the gentleman widout wather. ” 

“You left me, sir, without food or water, and you can fit out 
your own rock — yes, d — e, sir, you left me under fire, and that is a 
thing no true-hearted man would have tliougtit of. Stand by to 
make sail, boys; and if he ofter to enter the boat, pitch him out 
with the boat-hooks.” 

Spike was getting angry, and he entered the boat again, without 
perceiving that Rose had left it. Light of foot, and resolute of 
spirit, the beautiful girl, handsomer than ever, perhaps, by her ex- 
cited feelings and disheveled hair, had sprung on the rock, as Spike 
stepped into the boat forward, and when *the latter turned round, 
after loosening the sail, he found he was drifting away from the 
very being who was the object of all his efforts. Mulford, believ- 
ing that Rose was to be abandoned as well as himself, received the 
noble girl in his arms, though ready to implore Spike, on his knees, 
to return and at least to take her off. But Spike wanted no solicita- 
tion on that point. He returned of his own accord, and had just 
reached the rock again when a report of a gun drew all eyes toward 
the brig. 

The ” Swash ” had again run out of the passage, and was beat- 
ing up, close to the reef as she dared to go, with a signal flying. 
All the seamen at once understood the cause of this hint. The 
strange sail was getting too near, and everybody could see that it 
was the sloop-of- tvar. Spike looked at Rose, a moment, in doubt. 
But Mulford raised his beloved in his armSTand carried her to the 
side of the rock, stepping on board the boat. 

Spike watched the movements of the young man with jealous^ 
vigilance, and no sooner was Rose placed on her seat, than he mo- 
tioned significantly to the mate to quit the boat. 

“lean not and will not voluntaiily, Ohptain Spike,” answered 
Harry, calmly. ” It would be committing a sort of suicide.” 

A sign brought two of the men to the captain’s assistance. While 
the latter held Rose in her place, the sailors shovedjHarry on the rock 
again. Had Multord been disposed to resist, these two men could 
not very easily have ejected him from the boat, it they could have 
done it at all; hut he knew there were others in reserve, and feared 
that blood might be shed, in the irritated stale of Spike, in the pres- 
ence of RoSte. While, therefore, he would not be accessory to his 
own destruction, he would not engage in what he knew would prove 


JACK TIER. 


185 


not only a most harassing, but a bootless resistance. The conse- 
quence was that the boats proceeded, leaving him alone on the rode. 

It was perhaps fortunate for Rose that she fainted. Her condi- 
tion occupied her aunt and Biddy, and Spike was enabled to reach 
the brig without any further interruption. Rose was taken on board 
still nearly insensible, while her two female companions were so 
much confused and distressed that neither could have given a rea- 
sonably clear account of what had just occurred. Not so with Jack 
Tier, however. That singular being noted all that passed, seated 
in the eyes of the boat, away from the confusion that prevailed in 
its stern-sheets, and apparently undisturbed by it. 

As the party was sailing back toward the brig, the light-house 
boat towing the “ Swash’s ” yawl, Jack took as good an observa- 
tion of the channels of that part of the reef as his low position would 
allow. He tried to form in his mind a sort of chart of the spot, for, 
from the instant MuHoid was thus deserted, the little fellow had 
formed a stern resolution to attempt his rescue. How that was to 
be done, however, was more than he yet knew; and when they 
reached the brig’s side, Tier may be said to have been filled with 
good intentions, rather than with any very available knowledge to 
enable him to put them in execution. 

As respects the two vessels, the arrival of Spike on board his own 
was not a moment too soon. The “ Poughkeepsie,” for the stranger 
fo the northward was now ascertained to be that sloop-6f-war, was 
within long gunshot by ‘this time, and near enough to make cer- 
tain, by means of her glasses, of the character of the craft with 
which she was closing. Luckily for the brig she lay in thet^annel 
so often mentioned, and throagh which both she and her present 
pursuer had so lately come, on their way to the northward. This 
brought her to windward, as the wind then stood, with a clear pas- 
sage before her. Not a moment was lost. No sooner were the 
females sent below, than sail was made on the brig, and she began 
to beat through the passage, making long legs and short ones.’ She 
was chased, as a matter of course, and that hard, the difference in 
•sailing between the two craft not being sufficiently great to render 
the brigantine’s escape by any means certain, while absolutely 
within the range of those terrible missiles that were used by the 
man-of-war’s men. 

But Spike soon determined not to leave a point so delicate as that 
of his own and his vessel’s security to be decided by a mere supe- 
riority in the way of heels. The Florida Reef, with all its dangers, 
windings, and rocks, was as well known to him as the entrances to 
the port of New York. In addition to its larger channels, of wdiich 
there are three or four, through which ships of size can pass, it had 
many others that would admit only vessels of a lighter draught of 
water. The brig was not flying light, it is true, but she was merely 
in good ballast trim, and passages would be available to her, into 
wdiich the “ Poughkeepsie ” would not dare to venture. One of 
these lesser channels was favorably placed to further the escape of 
Spike, and he shoved the brig into it after the struggle had lasted 
less than an hour. This passage offered a shorter cut to the south 
side of the reef than the main channel, and the sloop of-war, doubt- 
less perceiving the uselessness of pursuit, under such circumstances, ' 


186 


JACK TIER. 


wore round on her heel, and came down through the main channel 
again, just entering the open water, near the spot where the 
schooner had sunk, as the sun was setting 

CHAPTER X. 

Shallow. Did her grandsire leave her seven hundred pound? 

Evans. Ay, and her father is make her a petter penny. 

Shallow. I know the young gentlewoman; she has good gifts. 

Evans. Seven hundred pounds, and possibilities, is good gifts. 

' Shakespeare. 

As for Spike, he had no intention of going to the southward of 
the Florida Reef again until his business called him there. The 
lost bag of doubloons was still gleaming before his imagination, and 
no sooner did the “ Poughkeepsie ” bear up, than he shortened sail,, 
standing back and forth in his narrow and crooked channel, rather 
losing ground than gaining, though he took great pains not to left 
his artifice be seen. When the “ Poughkeepsie ” was so far to the 
northward as to render it sate, he took in everything but one or two 
of his lowest sails, and followed easily in the same direction. As 
the sloop-of-war carried her light and loftier sails, he remained 
visible to the people of the “ Swash ” long after the “ Swash ” had 
ceased to be visible to her. Profiting by this circumstance. Spike 
entered the main channel again some time before it was dark, and 
selected a-safe anchorage there that was w'ell known to him; a spot 
where suflieient sand had collected on the coral to make good hold- 
ing-ground, and where a vessel would be nearly embayed, though 
always to windward of her channel going out, % the formation of 
the reef. Here he anchored, in order to wait until morning ere he 
ventured further north. During the whole of that dreadful day,. 
Rose had remained in her cabin, disconsolate, nearlj unable, as she 
was absolutely unwilling, to converse. Now it was that she felt the 
total insufficiency of a mind feeble as that of her aunt’s, to admin- 
ister consolation to misery like her own. Nevertheless, the adec- 
tionate solicitude of Mrs. Budd, as well as that of the faithful creat- 
ure, Biddy, brought some relief, and reason and resignation began 
slowly to resume their influence. Yet was the horrible picture of 
Harry, dying by inches, deserted in Hie midst of the waters on his 
solitary rock, ever presented to her thoughts, until, once or twice, 
her feelings verged on madness. Prayer brought its customary re- 
lief, however; and we do not think that we much exaggerate the 
fact, when we say that Rose passed fully one half of that terrible 
afternoon on her knees. 

As for Jack Tier, he was received on board the brig much as if 
nothing had happened. Spike passed and repassed him fifty times, 
without even an angry look, or a word of abuse; and the deputy- 
steward dropped quietly into the duties of his office, without meet- 
ing with either reproach or hinderance. The only allusion, indeed, 
that was made to his recent adventures, took place in a conversation 
that was 'held on the subject in the galley, the interlocutors being 
Jack himself. Josh the steward, and Simon the cook. 

“ Where you been scullin’ .to, 'bout on dat reef. Jack, wid dem 


JACK TIER. 


187 

'ere women, 1 won’ernow?” demanded Josh, after tasting the 
■cabin soup, in order to ascertain how near it was to being done. 1 
. t’ink it no great fun to dodge ’bout among clem rock in a boat, for 
^inudder hurricane might come when a body least expeck him.” 

” Oh,” said Jack, cavalierly, ” two hurricanes no more come in 
one month, than two shot in the same hole. We’ve been turtlin’, 
that’s all. 1 wish we had in your coppers, cook, some of the critters 
that we fell in with in our cruise.” 

” ^Vi8h ’e had, master steward, wid all my heart,” answered the 
tat, glistenidg potentate of the galley. ” But hark’ee. Jack, what 
became of our young mate, can ’e tell? Some say he get kill at ’e 
Dry Tortugas, and some say he war’ scullin’ round in dat boat you 
iiab. wid ’e young woman, eh?” 

‘‘Ah, boys,” answered Jack, mournfully, ‘‘sure enough, what 
has become of him?” 

‘‘ You know, why can’t you tell? What good to hab secret among 
friend?”' 

''Are ye his friends, lads? Do you really feel as if you could 
give a poor soul in its agony a helpin’ hand?” 

‘‘ Why not?” said Josh, in a reproachful way. ‘‘ Misser Mul- 
ford’s ’e bess male dis brig ebbef get; and 1 don’t see why Cap’in 
Spike want to be rid of him.” 

‘‘ Because he’s a willian !” returned Jack between his grated teeth. 
“ D’ye know what that means in Engli&h, Master Josh; and can 
you and cook here, both of whom have sailed with the man years 
In and years out, say -whether ray w'ords be true or not?” 

“Dat as a body understand ’em. Accordin’ to some rule, Ste- 
phen Spike not a werry honest man; but accordin’ to ’nudder some, 
he as good as anybody else.” 

. ‘‘ Yes, dat just be upshot of de matter,” put in Simon, approv- 
ingly. ‘‘ De whole case lie in dat meanin’ !” 

“ D’ye call it right to leave a human being to starve, or to suffer 
for watei*, on a naked rock, in the midst of the ocean?” 

” Who do dat?” 

The willian wlio is captain of this brig; and all because he 
thinks young eyes and bloomin’ cheeks prefer young eyes and 
bloomin’ cheeks to his own grisly beard and old lookouts.” 

“ Dat bad ; dat w'erry bad,” said Josh, shaking his head, a way of 
denoting dissatisfaction, in which Simon joined him; for no crime 
appeared sufficiently grave in the eyes of these two sleek and well- 
fed officials to justify such a punishment. ‘‘ Dat mons’ous bad, and 
cap’in ought to know better dan do dat. 1 nebber starves a mouse, 
if I catches him in de bread-locker. Now, dat a sort of reason’ble 
punishment, too; but 1 nebber does it. If mouse eat my bread, it 
do seem right to tell mouse dat he hab enough, and dat he must not 
eat any more for a week, or a mont’, but it too cruel for me, and 1 
nebber does it; no; 1 1 rows de little debil overbcmrd, and lets him 
drown like a gentle’em.” 

” Y-e-s,” drawled out Simon, in a philanthropical lone of voice, 
‘‘ dat ’e best way. What good it do to torment a fellow critter? It 
Misser Mulford run, why put him down run, and let him go, 1 say, 
on’j^ mulk his wages; but what good it do anybody to starve him? 
Now dis is my opinion, gentle’em, and dat is, dat starvation be 


188 


JACK TIER. 


wuss dan choleric. Choleric kill, I knows, and so does starvation 
kill; but of de two, give me de choleric fuss; if 1 gets well of dat, 
den try starwation if you can. ” 

“ _l’m glad to hear you talk in this manner, my hearties,” put in 
Jack: “ and 1 hope I may find you accommodatin’ in a plan I’ve got 
to help the maty out of this difficulty. As a friend of iStephen 
Spike’s, 1 would do it; for it must be a terrible thing to die with 
such a murder on one’s soul. Here’s the boat that we picked up at 
the light-bouse, yonder, in tow of the brig at this minute; and 
there’s everything in her comfortable for a good long run, as 1 
know from having sailed in her; and what I mean is this: as we left 
Mr. Mulford, 1 took the bearings and distance of the rock he was 
on, d’ye understand, and think I could find my way back to it. 
You see the brig’s travelin’ slowly north ag’in, and afore long vre 
shall be in the neighborhood of that very rock. We. cook and 
stewards, will be called on to keep an anchor-watch, if the brig 
fetches up, as 1 heard the captain tell the Spanish gentleman he 
thought she would: and then we can take the boat that’s in the 
water and go and have a hunt for the maty.” 

The two blacks looked at Tier earnestly; then they turned their 
heads to look at each other. The idea struck each as bold and 
novel, but each saw serious difficulties in it. At length Josh, as 
became his superior station, took on himself the office of expressing 
the objections that occurred to his mind. 

. ” Hat nebber do!” exclaimed the steward. “We be’s quite will- 

in’ to serve ’e mate, who’s a good gentle’em and as nice a young 
man as ever sung out, ‘ Hard a-lee,’ but we must t’ink little bit of 
number one; or, for dat matter, of number two, as Simon would be 
implercated as well as myself. It Cap’n Spike once knew we’ve 
lent a hand in sich a job, he’d never overlook it. 1 knows him, welly 
and that is sayin’ as much as need be said of any man’s character. 
You nebber catch me runnin’ myself into his jaws; would rather 
fight a shark widout any knife. No, no— 1 knows him well. Den 
comes anudder werry unanswerable objecsh’un, and dat is, dat ’e 
brig owe bot’ Simon and I money. Fifty dollars, each on us, if she 
owe one cent. Now, do you t’ink in cander, Jack, dat tw^o color’ 
gentle’era, like us, can t’row away our fortins like two sons of a 
York merchant dat has inherited a hundred t’ousand dollar tudder 
day?” 

” There is no occasion for running at all, or for losing your 
wages.” 

‘‘ How you get ’e mate off, den? Can he walk away on de 
water? If so, let him go widout us. A werry good gentle’em is 
Misser Mulford, but not good enough to mulk Simon and me out of 
fifty dollar each.” 

■ ‘‘You will not hear my project, Josh, and so will never know 
what 1 would be at.” 

‘‘ Well, come, tell him jest as you supposes him. Now, listen^, 
Simon, so dat not a word be loss.” 

” My plan is to take the boat, if we anchor, as anchor 1 know we 
shall, and go and find the rock and bring Mr. Mulford off; then^w^e 
can come back to the brig, and get on board ourselves, and let^the- 


JACK TIER. 


1S9 


male sail away in the boat by himselt. On this plan nobody will 
run, and no wages be mulcted.” 

‘‘ But dat take time, and an anchor- watch last but two hours, sui>- 
posin’ even dat ’ey puts all free oi us in de same watch.” 

“Spike usually does that, you know. ‘Let the cook and the 
stewards keep the midnight watch,’ he commonly says, ‘ and that 
will give the foremast hands a better snooze.’ ” 

“ Yes, he do say dat, Josh,” put in Simon, “ most ebbery time 
we comes-to.” 

“1 know he does, and surposes he will say it to-night, if he 
comes-to to-night. But a two-hour watch may not be long enougli 
to do all you wants; and den, jest fink for a moment, should ’e 
cap’in come on deck and hail ’e forecastle, and find us all gone, 1 
wouldn’t be in your skin, Jack, for dis brig, in sich a kerlamity. I 
know Cap’in Spikewell; t’ree time I endebber to run myself, and 
each time he bring me up wid a round turn ; so, nowadays, 1 nebber 
finks of sich a projeck any longer.” 

“ But I do not intend to leave the forecastle without some one on 
it to answer a hail. No, all 1 want is a companion; tor 1 do not like 
to go out on the reef at midnight, all alone. It one of you will go 
with me, the other can stay and answer the captain’s hail, should 
he really come on deck in our watch — a thing very little likely to 
happen. When once his head is on his pillow, a’ter a hard day’s 
work, it’s not very apt to be lifted ag’in without a call, or a squall. 
If 3'ou do know Stephen Spike well, Josh, 1 know him better.” 

“ Well, Jack, dis here is a new idee, d’ye see, and a body must 
take time to consider on it. If Simon and 1 do ship for dis v’y’ge, 
’twill be for lub of Mr. Mulford, and not for his money or yoiir'n. 

This was all the encouragement of his project Jack Tier coYild ob- 
tain, on that occasion, from either his brother steward, or from the 
cook. These blacks were well enougli disposed to rescue an inno- 
cent and unoliending man from the atrocious death to which Spike 
had condemned his mate, but neither lost sight of his own security 
or interest. They promised Tier not to betray him, however; and he 
had the fullest confidence in their pledges. *They who live together 
in common, usually understand the feeling that prevails, on any 
given point, in their own set; and Jack felt pretty certain that Harry 
was a greater favorite in and about the caboose than the captain. 
On that feeling he relied, and he was fain to wait the course of 
events, eie he came to any absolute conclusion as to his own course. 

The interview in the galley took place about half an hour before 
the brig anchored for the night. Tier, who often assisted on such 
occasions, went aloft to help secure the roj^al, one of the gaskets of 
which had got loose, and from the yard he had an excellent oppor- 
tunity to take a look at the reef, the situation of the vessel, and the 
probable bearings of the rock on which poor Mulford had been de- 
voted to a miserable death. This opportunity was much increased 
by Spike’s hailing him, while on the yard, and ordering him to fake 
a good look at the sloop-of-war, and at the same time to ascertain if 
any boats weie “ prowlin’ about, in order to make a set upon us in 
the night.” On receiving this welcome order. Jack answered with 
a cheerful “Ay, ay, sir,” and standing upon the yard, he placed an. 
arm around the mast, and remained for a long time making his ob- 


190 


JACK TIER. 


servations. The command to look out for boats would have been a 
sufRcient excuse had he continued on the yard as long as it was 
light. 

.Jack had no difficulty in finding the “ Poughkeepsie,” which was 
already through the passage, and no longer visible from the deck. 
She appeared to be standing to the northward and westward, under 
easy canvas, like a craft that was in no hurry. This fact was com- 
municated to Spike in the usual way. The latter seemed pleased, 
and he answered in a hearty manner, just as if no difficulty had ever 
occurred between him and the steward’s assistant. 

“ V^ery well. Jack! bravo. Jack! — now take a good look for boats; 
you’ll have light enough for that this half hour,” cried the captain. 
“If any are out, you’ll find them pulling down the channel, or 
maybe they’ll try to shorten the cut, by attempting to pull athwart 
the reef. Take a good and steady look for them, my man.” 

” Ay, ay, sir; I’ll do all 1 can with naked eyes,” answ'ered Jack, 
” but 1 could do better, sir, if they would only send me up a glass 
•by these here signal-halyards. With a glass, a tellow might speak 
with some sartainty.” 

Spike seemed struck with the truth of this suggestion; and he 
■soon sent up a glass aloft by the signal-halyards. Thus provided. 
Jack descended as low as the cross-trees, wffiere he took his seat, 
and began to survey at his leisure. While thus employed, the brig 
w^as secured for the night, her decks were cleared, and the people 
were ordered to get their suppers, previously to setting an anchor- 
watch, and turning-in for the night. No one heeded the move- 
ments of Tier — for Spike had gone into his ow’n state room — with 
the exception ot Josh and Simon. Those two worthies were still in 
the galley, conversing on the subject of Jack’s lecent communica- 
tions; and ever and anon one of them w’ould stick Ins head out of 
the door and look alolt, withdrawing it, and shaking it significant- 
ly, as soon as his observations were ended. 

As for Tier, he was seated quite at his ease; and having slung his 
glass to one ot the shrouds, in a w^ay to admit of its being turned 
as on a pivot, he had every opportunity tor observing accurately, 
and at his leisure. The first thing Jack did, W’as to examine the 
channel very closely, in order to make sure that no boats were in 
it, after which he turned the glass with great eagerness toward the 
reef, in the almost hopeless office ot ascertaining something concern- 
ing Mulford. In point ot fact, the brig had anchored quite three 
leagues from the solitary rock of the deserted mate, and, favored as 
he was by his elevation. Jack could hardly expect to discern so 
small and low an object as that rock at so great a distance. Never- 
theless, the glass was much better than common. It had been a 
present to Spike from one who w’as careful in his selections of such 
objects, and wdio had accidentally been under a serious obligation to 
the captain. Knowing the importance ot a good look, as regards 
the boats. Spike had brought this particular instrument, of wdiich, 
in common, he was very chary, from his own state-room, and sent 
it alofi, in order that Jack might have every available opportunity 
of ascertaining his facts. It was this glass, then, which was the 
means of the important discoveries the little fellow, who was thus 


JACK TIER. 191 

perched on the lore-topmast cross-trees ot the “ Swash,” did aclu- 
ally succeed in making. 

Jack aclually started, when he first ascertained how distinctly and 
near the glass he was using brought distant objects. The gulls that 
sailed across its disk, though a league otf, appeared as if near enough 
to be touched by the hand, and even their feathers gave out not only 
their hues, but their forms. Thus, too, was it with the surface of 
the ocean, of which the little waves that agitated the water of the 
reef, might be seen tossing up and down, at more than twice the 
range of the “Poughkeepsie’s” heaviest gun. Naked rocks, low 
and subdued as they were in color, too, were to be noted, scattered 
up and down in the panorama. At length Tier fancied his glass 
covered a field that he recognized. It was distant, but might be 
seen from liis present elevation. A second look satisfied him he was 
right; and he next clearly traced the last channel in which they had 
endeavored to escape from Spike, or that in which the boat had been 
taken. Following it along, by slowly moving the glass, he actually 
hit the rock on which Mulford had been deserted. It was peculiar 
in shape, size, and elevation above the water, and connected with 
the circumstance ot the channel, which was easily enough seen by 
the color of the water, and more easily from his height than if he 
had been in it, he could not be mistaken. The little fellow’s heart 
beat quick as he made the glass move slowly over its surface, anx- 
iously searching for the form of the mate. It was not to be seen. 
A second, and more careful sweep of the glass, made it certain that 
the rock was deserted. 

Although a little reflection might have satisfied any one Mulford 
was not to be sought in that particular spot, so long after he had 
been left there, Jack Tier felt grievously disappointed when he was 
first made certain of the accuracy of his observations. A minute 
later he began to reason on the matter, and he felt more encour- 
aged. The rock on which the mate had been abandoned was 
smooth, and could not hold any fresh water that might have been 
left by the late showers. Jack also remembered that it had neither 
sea- weed nor shell-fish. In short, the utmost malice of Spike could 
not have selected, for the immolation of his victim, a more suitable 
place. Now Tier had heard Harry’s explanation to Rose, touching 
the manner in which he had waded and swum about the reef thal 
very morning, and it at once occurred to him that the young man 
had too much energy and spirit to remain helpless and inactive to 
perish on a naked rock, when there might be a possibility of at least 
prolonging existence, if not of saving it. This induced the steward 
to turn the glass slowly over the water, and along all the ranges of 
visible rock tliat he could find in that vicinity. For a long time the 
search was useless, the distance rendering such an examination not 
only difficult, but painful. At length Jack, about to give up the 
matter in despair, took one sweep with the glass nearer to the brig, 
as much to obtain a general idea of the boat channels of the reef, as 
in anv hope of finding Mulfoid, when an object moving in the water 
came'within the field of the glass. He saw it but for an instant, as. 
the glass swept slowly past, but it struck him it was something that 
had life, and was in motion. Carefully going over the same ground 
again, after a long search, he again found what he so anxiously 


192 


JACK TIER. 


«onght. A good look satisfied him that he was right. ]t was cer- 
tainly a man wading along the shallow water of the reef, immersed 
to his waist— and it must be Mulford. 

So excited was Jack Tier by this discovery that he trembled like 
a leaf. A minute or two elapsed before he could again use the 
glass; and when he did, a long and anxious search was necessary 
before so small an object could be once more found. Find it he 
did, however, and then he got its range by the vessel, in a way to. 
make sure of it. Yes, it was a man, and it was Mulford. 

Circumstances conspired to aid Jack in tbe investigation that suc- 
ceeded. The sun was near setting, but a stream of golden light 
gleamed over the waters, particularly illuminating the portion which 
came within the field of the glass. It appeared then that Harry, in 
his efforts to escape from the rock, and to get nearer to the edge of 
the main channel, where his chances of being seen and rescued 
would be tenfold what they were on his rock, had moved south, by 
following the naked reef and the shallow places, and was actually 
^nore than a league nearer to the brig than he would have been had 
'^e remained stationary. There had been hours in which to make 
this change, and the young man had probably improved them to the 
utmost. 

Jack watched the form that was wading slowly along with an in- 
terest he had never before felt in the movements of any human be- 
ing. Whether Mulford saw the brig or not, it was difficult to say. 
She was quite two leagues from him, and, now that her sails w^ere 
furled, she offered but little for the eye to rest on at that distance. 
At first. Jack thought the young man was actually endeavoring to 
get nearer to her, though it must have been a forlorn hope that 
should again place him in the hands of Spike. It was, how^ever, a 
more probable conjecture that the young man was endeavoring to 
reach the margin of the passage, where a good deal of rock was 
above w^ater, and near to which he had already managed to reach. 
At one time Jaek saw that the mate was obliged to swim, and he 
actually lost sight of him for a time. His form, however, reap- 
peared, and then it slowly emerged from the water, and stood erect 
on a bare rock of some extent. Jack freathed freer at this; for 
Mulford was now on the verj margin of the channel, and might be 
easily reached by the boat, should he prevail on Josh, or Simon, to 
attempt the rescue. 

At first Jack Tier fancied that Mulford had knelt to return thanks 
on his arrival at a place of comparative safety; but a second look 
satisfied him that Harry was drinking from one of the little pools 
of fresh w^ater left by the late shower. When he rose from drink- 
ing, the young man walked about the place, occasionally stooping, 
signs that he was picking up shell-fish for his supper. Suddenly, 
Mulfoid darted forward and passed beyond the field of the glass. 
When jack found him again, he was in the act of turning a small 
turtle, using his knife on the animal inimediately after. Had Jack 
been in danger of starvation himself, and found a source of food as 
ample and as grateful as this, he could scarcely have been more de- 
lighted. The light now began to wane perceptibly, still Harry’s 
movements could be discerned. The turtle was killed and dressed, 
sufficiently at least for the mate’s purposes, and the latter was seen 


JACK TIER. 


193 

collecting sea weed, and bits of plank, boards, and sticks of wood, 
ot which more or less, in dritting past, had lodged upon the rocks. 
“ Is it possible,’' thought Jack, ““ that he is so werry partic’iar he 
can’t eat his tin tie raw? Will he, indeed, venture to^light^ hre, or 
has he the means?’' Multord was so paiticular, however, he did 
venture to light a fire, and he had the means. This may be said to 
be the age of matches— not in a connubial, though in an inflamma- 
tory sense— and the mate had a small stock in a tight box that he 
habitually carried on his person. Tier saw him at work over a little 
■pile he had made, for a lonir time, the beams of day departing now 
so fast as to make him fearful he should soon lose his object in the 
increasing, obscurity ot twilight. Suddenly a light gleamed, and 
the pile sent forth a clear flame. Multord went to and fro, collect- 
ing materials to feed his fire, and was soon busied in cooking his 
turtle. All this Tier saw and understood, the light ot the flames 
coUiing in proper time to supply the vacuum left by the departure 
of that ot day. 

In a minute Tier had no difficulty in seeing the lire that Mulford 
liad lighted on his low and insulated domains with the naked eye. 
It gleamed brightly in that solitary place; and the steward was 
much afraid it would be seen by some one on deck, get to be re- 
ported to Spike, and lead to Harry's destruction alter alb The jo ate 
appeared to be insensible to his danger, however, occasionally cast 
ing piles of dry sea weed on his fire, in a way to cause the flames to 
flash up, as if kindled anew by gunpowder. It now occurred to 
Tier that the young man had a double object in lighting this fire. 
M'hich would answer not only the purposes of his cookerjg but as 
a. signal of distress to anything passing near. The sloop-of-war, 
though more distant than the brif^, wms in his neighborhood; and 
.she might possibly yet send relief. Such was the state ot tilings 
w'heu Jackw^as startled by a sudden hail from below. It was Spike’s 
voice, and came up to him short and qiiick>v 

“Fore-topmast cioss-trees, theie! What are ye about all this 
lime, Master Jack Tier, in them fore-topmast cioss-trees, 1 say?” 
demanded Spike. 

“ Keeping a lookout for boats from the sloop-of-war, as you bade 
me, sir,” answered Jack, coolly. 

“ D’ye see any, my man? Is the water clear ahead of us, or 
not?” 

“ It’s getting to be so dark, sir, 1 can see no longer. While there ' 
wms daylight, no boat was to be seen.” 

“ Come down, man— come down; I’ve business for yon below. 
The sloop is far enough to tiie nor’ard, and we shall ueither see nor 
hear from her to-night. Come down, 1 say, Jack — come down.” 

Jack obeyed, and securing the glass, he began to descend the rig- 
ging. Be was sj>ou as low as the top, when he paused a moment to 
tr.ke another look. The fire was still visible, shining like a torch on 
the surface ot the water, casting its beams abroad like “ a good deed 
in a naughty world.” Jack was sorry to see it, though he once 
more took its bearing from the brig, in order that he might know 
where to find the spot, in the event of a search for it. When on 
the stretcher of the tore-rigging, Jack stopped ana again looked for 
his beacon. It had disappeared, having sunk below the circular 


194 


JACK TIKE. 


formation ot the earth. By ascending two or three ratlines, it came 
into view, and by going down as ]o\^ as the stretcher again it disap- 
peared. Trusting that no one, at that hour, would have occasion 
to go aloft. Jack now descended to the deck, and went aft with the 
spy -glass. 

fepike and Sefior Montefalderon were under the coach-house, no 
one else appearing on any part of the quarter-deck. The people 
were eating their suppers, and Josh and Simon were busy in the 
galley. As for the females, they chose to remain in their own 
cabin, where Spike was well pleased to leave Ihem.^ 

“ Come this way. Jack,'’ said the captain, in his best-humored 
tone of voice, “ I’ve a word to ssy to you. Pul the glass in at my 
state-room window, and come hither.” 

Tier did as ordered. 

“ So yon can make out no boats to the nor’ard, ha, Jack! noth- 
ing to be seen thereaway?” 

” Nothing in the way of a boat, sir.” 

“ Ay, ay, 1 dare say there’s plenty of water, and some rock. 
The Florida Reef has no scarcity of either, to them that knows 
where to look for one, and to steer clear of the other. Hark’ee. 
Jack; so you got the schooner under way from the Dry Tortugus, 
and undertook to beat her up to Key West, when she fancied her- 
self a turtle, and over she went with you — is that it, my man?” 

” The scliooner turned turtle with us, sure enough, sir; and we 
all came near drowning on her bottom.” 

‘‘ No sharks in that latitude and longitude, eh, Jack?” 

” Plenty on ’em, sir; and 1 thought they would have got us all, 
at one time. More than twenty set of fins were in sight at once, tor 
seveial hours” 

” You could hardly have supplied the gentlemen with a leg or 
an arm, each. But where was the boat all this time — you had the 
Jjght-house boat in tow, 1 suppose?” 

“She had been in tow, sir; but Madam Budd talked so much 
dictionary to the painter that it got adrift.” 

“ Yet 1 found you all in it.” 

” Very true, sir. Mr. Mulford svvam quite a mile to reach the 
rocks, and found the boat aground on olg on ’em. As soon as he 
got the boat he made sail, and came and took us oft. .We had 
reason to thank God he could do so.” 

Spike looked dark and thoughtful. He muttered the words 
■'swam,” and “ rocks,” but was too cautious to allow any expres- 
sions to escape him, that might betray to the Mexican officer that 
which was uppermost in his mind. He was silent, hoi^ever, for 
quite a minute, and ,lack saw that he had awakened a dangerous 
^^ou'-ce of distrust in the captain’s breast. 

“ Well, Jack,” resumed Spike, after a pause, “ can you tell any- 
y:ing of the doubloons? 1 nafrally expected to find them in the 
joat, but there was none to be seen. You scarcely pumped the 
sc.hoener out, without overhauling her lockers, and falling in with 
:.hem doubloons.” 

“ We found them, sure enough, and had them ashore with us, in 
the tent, down to the moment when we sailed.” 


JACK TIEE. 


195 

“ When you took them oft to the schooner, eh? 3Iy life for it, 
the gold was not forgotten.” 

” It was not, sure enough, sir; -but we took it oft with us to the 
schooner, and it went down in her when she finally sunk.” 

Another pause, during which Senor Montefalderon and Captain 
Spike looked significantly at each other. 

Do you think, Jack, you could find the spot where the schooner 
went down?’' 

“ 1 could come pretty near it, sir, though not on the very spot 
itself. Water leaves no mark over the grave of a sunkenjship.” 

” If you can take us within a reasonable distance,- we might find 
it by sweeping for it. Them doubloons are worth some trouble; 
and their recovery would be better than a long v’y’ere to us-, any 
day.” 

“They would, indeed, Don Esteban,” observed the Mexican; 
“ and my poor country is not in a condition to bear heavy . losses 
It Senor Jack Tier can find the wreck, and w^e regain the money, 
ten of those doubloons shall be his reward, though 1 lake them 
from my own share, mucii diminished as it will be.” 

You hear. Jack — here is a chance to make your fortune! You 
say you sailed with me in old times — and old times were good times 
with this brig, though times has changed; but it you sailed with 
me, in old times, you^must remember that whatever the ‘ Swash ’ 
touched she turned to gold.” 

‘‘ 1 hope you don’t doubt, Captain Spike, rny having sailed in the 
brig, nut only in old times, hut in her best times ” 

Jack seemed hurt as he put this question, and Spike appeared in 
doubt. The latter gazed at the little, rotund, queer-looking figure 
before him, as if endeavoring to recognize him; and when he had 
done, he passed his hand over his brow, like one who endeavored 
to recall past objects by excluding those that are present. 

“You wijl then show us the spot where ray unfortunate schooner 
did sink, Senor Jack Tier?” put in the Mexican. 

“ With all my heart, senor, if it is to be found. 1 think 1 could 
take you wilhin a cable’s length of the place, though hunger, and 
thirst, and sharks, and the fear of drowning, will keep a fellow 
from having a very bright lookout for such a matter.” 

“ In what water do you suppose the craft to lie, Jack?” demanded 
the captain. 

“ You know as much of that as 1 do myself, sir. She went down 
about the cable’s length from the reef, toward which she was a 
seltin’ at the time; and had she kept afloat an hour longer she 
might have grounded on the locks.” 

“ She's better where she is, it we can only find her by sweeping. 
On the rocks we could do nothing with her but break her up, and 
ten to one the doubloons would be lost. By the way, Jack, do you 
happen to know where that scoundrel of a mate of mine stov/ed the 
money?” 

“ When we left the island I carried it down to the boat myself-—-* 
and a good lift 1 had of it. As sure as you are there, senor, 1 was 
obliged to take it on a shoulder. When it came out of the boat, 
Mr. 31ulford carried it below; and 1 heard him tell Miss Kose, a’ter- 
ward, that he had thrown it into a bread-locker.” 


196 


JACK TIEK. 


“Where we shall find it, Don Wan, notvvithslandini^ all this 
veering and hauling. The old brig has luck when doubloons arc 
in question, and ever has had since I’ve commanded her. Jack, 
we shall have lo call on the cook and stewards for an anchor-watch 
to niglit. The people are a good deal fagged with boxing about 
this reef so much, and 1 shall want 'em all as fresh to-morrow as 
the}’’ can be got. You idlers had better fake the middle watches, 
which will give the forecastle chaps longer naps, ” 

“ Ay, av, sir; we'll manage that for ’em. Josh and Simon can 
• go on at twelve, and 1 will take the watch at two, which wdl give 
the men all the rest they want, as 1 can hold out for four hours 
full. I’m as good tor an anchor-w^atch as any man in the brig, 
Captain Spike.'” 

“ That you are, Jack, and better than some on ’em. Take you all 
round, and round it is, you’re a rum ’un, my lad — the queerest little 
jigger that ever lay out on a royal-yard.” 

Jack might have been a little offended at Spike’s compliments, 
but he was certainly not sorry to find him so good-natured, after all 
that had passed. He now left the captain and his Mexican com- 
panion, seemingly in close conference together, while he went below 
himself, and driqiped as naturally into the routine of his duty as if 
he had never left the brig. In the cabin he found the females, of 
course. Rose scarce raising her face from the shawl which lay on 
the bed of her own berth. Jack busied himself in a locker uear lliis 
berth, until an oppoitunity occurred to touch Rose, unseen by her 
aunt or Biddy. The poor heart-stricken girl raised her face, from 
which all the color had departed, aud looked almost vacantly at 
Jack, as if to ask an explauaiion. Hope is truly, by a most benefi- 
cent provision of. Providence, one of the very last blessings to aban- 
don us. It is probable that we are thus gifted, iu order to encourage 
us to rely on the great atonement to the last moment, sinpe, without 
this natural endowment to cling to hope, despair might well be the 
fate of millions, w ho, there is reason to think, reap the benefit of 
that act of divine mercy, it would hardly do to say that anything 
like hope was blended with the look Rose now cast on Jack, but it 
was*aiixious and inquiring. 

The steward bent his head to the locker, bringing his face quite 
uear to that of Rose, aud wiiispered— “ There is hope, Miss Rose — 
but do not betray me.” 

These were blessed words for our heroine to hear, and they pro- 
duced an immediate and great revolution in her feelings. Com- 
manding herself, however, she looked her questions, instead of 
trusting even to a whisper. Jack did not say any more, just then; 
but, shortly after, he called Rose, whose eyes w’ere now never off 
him, into the main cabin, w’hich was empty. It was so much 
pleasanter to sleep in an airy state-room on deck that Senor Monte- 
falderon, indeed, had given up the use of this cabin, m a great 
measure, seldom appearing in it, except at meals, having taken 
possession of the deserted apartment of Mulford. Josh was in the 
galley, where he spent most of his time, and Rose and Jack had no 
one to disturb their conference. 

“ He is safe, Miss Rose — G-od be praised!” whispered Jack, 


JACK TIER. 197 

“ Safe for the present, at least; with food, and water, and fire to 
keep him warm at night,” 

It was impossible foi;Rose not to understand to whom there was 
allusion, though her head became diyzy under the painful confusion 
that prevailed in it. She pressed her temples with both hands, and 
asked a thousand questions with her eyes. Jack considerately 
handed her a glass of water before he proceeded. As soon as he 
found her a little more composed he related the facts connected 
with his discovery of Multord, precisely as- they had occurred. 

” He is now on a large rock— a little island, indeed— where he is 
safe from the ocean unless it come on to blow a hurricane,” con- 
cluded Jack, ” and has fresh water and fresh turtle in the bargain. 
A man might live a mouth -on one such turtle as 1 saw Mr. Mulford 
cutting up this evening.” 

” Is there no way of rescuing him from the situation you have 
mentioned,* Jack? In a year or two I shall be my own mistress, 
and have money to do as I please with; put me only in the way of 
taking Mr. Mulford from that rock, and I will share all 1 am worth 
on earth with you, dear Jack.” 

“Ay, so it is with the whole sex,” muttered Tier; ‘‘let them 
only once give up their affections to a man, and he becomes dearer 
to them than pearls and rubies! But you know me, Miss Rose, and 
kuow %ohy and limo well 1 would sarve you. My story and my feel- 
in’s are as mucli your secret, as your story and your fcelin’s is mine. 
We sliall pull together, if we don’t pull so very strong. Now, 
hearken to me. Miss Rose, and 1 will let you into the secret of my 
plan to help Mr. Mulford make a launch.” 

Jack then communicated to Iris companion his whole project for 
the night. Spike had, of his own accord, given to him and his two 
associates, Simon and Josh, the care of the brig between midnight 
and morning. If he could prevail on either of these two men to 
accompany him it Was his intention to take the light-liouse boat, 
which was riding by its painter asiern of the brig, and proceed as 
fast as they could to the spot whither Mulford had found his way. 
By his calculations, it the wind stood as it then was, little more 
than an hour would be necessary to reach the rock, and about as 
much more to return. Should the breeze lull, of which there w’as 
no great danger, since the easterly trades were again blowing. Jack 
thought he and Josh might go over the distance with the oars in 
about double the time. Should both Josh and Simon refuse to ac- 
company him he thought he should attempt the rescue of the mate 
alone, did the wind stand, trusting to Mulford’s assistance, should 
he need it, in getting back to the brig. 

‘‘ You surely would not come back here with Harry, did you 
once get him safe from off that rock?” exclaimed Rose 

” Why, you knowhow it is with me, Miss Rose,” answered Jack. 
” Jfv business is here, on board the ‘ Swash,’ and I must attend to 
it. Nothing shall tempt me to give up the brig so long as she floats, 
and sartairi folk float in her, unless it might be some such matter as 
that which happened on the bit of an island at the Dry Tortugas. 
Ah! he’s a willian! But if I do come back, it will be only to get 
into my own proper berth ag’in, and not to bring Mr. Mulford into 
the lion's jaws. Pie will only have to put me back on board the 


JACK TIER. 


198 

‘ Molly ’ here, when he can make the best ol his own way to Key 
West. Halt an hour would place him out of harm’s way; especially 
as 1 happen to know the course Spike means to steer in the niorn- 
ing.” 

“ 1 will go with you, Jack,” said Rose, mildly, but with great 
firmness. 

“ You, Miss Rose! Bui why should 1 show surprise? It’s like 
all the sex, when they have given away their aflections. Yes, 
woman will be woman, put her on a naked rock, or put her in silks 
and sal ins in her parlor at home. How diflerent it is with men! 
They dole for a little while, and turn to a new face. It must be 
said, men’s willians!” 

” Kot Mulford, Jack — no, not Harry Mulford! A truer or a nobler 
heart never beat in a human breast; and you and 1 will drown to- 
gether, rather than he should not be taken from that rock.” 

” It shall be as you say,” answered Jack, a little thou<rht fully. 
” Perhaps it would be best that you should quit the brig allogether. 
Spike is getting desperate, and you will be safer with the young mate 
than with so great an old wiilian. Yes, you shall go with me, Miss 
Rose; and it Josh and Simon both refuse, we will go alone” 

” W'ith you. Jack, but not with Mr. Mulford. 1 can not desert 
my aunt, nor can 1 quit the ‘ Swash ’ alone in company with her 
mate. As for Spike, 1 despise him too much to fear him. He must 
soon go into port somewhere, and at the first place where he touches 
we shall quit him. He dare not detain us— nay, he can not — and 1 
do not fear him. We shall save Harry, hut 1 shall remain with my 
aunt.” 

” We’ll see. Miss Rose, we’ll see,” said Tier, smiling.' ” Perhaps 
a handsome young man, like Mi. Mhlford, will have better luck in 
persuading you tlran an old fellow like me. If he should fail, ’twdll 
be his own fault. ” 

So thought Jack Tier, judjring of women as he had found them, 
but so did not think Rose Budd, The conversation ended here, how- 
ever, each keeping in view its purport, and the serious business that 
was before them. 

The duty of the vessel went on as usual. The night promised to 
be clouded, but not very dark, as there was a moon. When Spike 
orderea the anchpr- watches, he had great care to spare his crew as 
mucii as possible, tor the next day was likely to be one of great toil 
to them. He iutemled to get the schooner-up again, it possible; and 
though he might not actually pump her out so as to cause her to 
float, enough water was to be removed to enable him to get at the 
doubloons. The situation of the bread-locker was known, and as 
soon as the cabin was sufficiently freed from water to enable one to 
move about in it. Spike did not doubt his being able to get at the 
gold. With his resources and ingenuity, the matter in his own mind 
was rediiced to one of toil and time. Eiuht-and-forty hours, and 
some hard labor, he doubled not would effect all lie cared for. 

In settimr the anchor-watches for the night, therefore, Stephen 
Spike bethought him as much of the morrow as of the present mo- 
ment. Don Juan offered to remain on deck until midnight, aqd as 
he was as capable oi giving an alarm as any one else, the offer was 
accepted. -Josh and Simon were to succeed the Mexican, audio hold 


JACK TIER. 


199 


the lookout for two hours, when Jack was to relieve them, and to 
continue on deck until light returned, when he was to give ihe cap- 
tain a call. This arrangement made. Tier turned in at once, desir- 
ing the cook to call him half an hour before the proper period of 
his watch commenced. That half hour Jack intended to employ 
in exercising his .eloquence in endeavoring to persuade either Josh 
or Simon to be of his party. By eight o\:lock the vessel lay in a 
prolound quiet, Senor Montefalderon pacing the quarter-deck 
alone, while the deep breathing of Spike was to be heard issuing 
through theopen window of his state-room; a window which, it may 
be well to say to toe uninitiated, open in-board, or toward the deck, 
and not out-board, or toward the sea. 

For four solitary hours did the Mexican pace the deck of the 
stranger, resting himself for a few’’ minutes at a time only, when 
wearied with wmlking. Does the reader fancy that a man so situ- 
ated had not plenty of occupation for his thoughts? Don Juan 
Montefalderon was a soldier arid a gallant cavalier; and love of 
country had alone induced him to engage in his present duties. Not 
that patriotism which looks to political preferment through a popu- 
lurity purchased by the vulgar acclamation which attends success in 
arms, even when undeserved, or that patriotism which induces men 
of fallen characters to endeavor to retrieve former offenses by the 
shortest and most reckless mode, or that patriotism which shouts 
“our country right or "wrong,” regardless alike of God and his 
eternal laws, that are never to be forgotten with impunity; but the 
patriotism which would defend his home and fireside, bis altars and 
the graves of bis fathers, from the ruthless steps of the invader. 
We shall not pretend to say how far this gentleman entered into the 
merits of the quarrel between the two republics, w’bich no arts of 
European jealousy can ever conceal from the judgment of truth, for, 
with him, matters had gone beyond the point wdiere men feel the 
necessity of reasoning, and w^hen, perhaps, if such a condition of 
the mind is ever to be defended, he found his perfect justification 
in feeling. He had traveled, and knew life by observation, and not 
through traditions and booKs. He had never believed, therefore, 
tliat his countiymen could march to Washington, or even to the 
Sabine;/ but he had hoped for better things than had since occurred. 
The warlike qualities of the Americans of the North, as he was ac- 
customed to call those wlm term themselves, par excellence, Ameri- 
cans, a name they are fated to retain, and to raise high on the scale 
of national power and national pre-eminence, unless they fall by 
their own hands, had taken him by surprise, as they have taken all 
but those who knew the country well, and who understood its peo- 
ple. Little had he imagined lhat tlie small, widely-spread body of 
regulars, that figured in the blue books, almanacs, and army-regis- 
ters of America, as some six or seven thousand men, scattered along 
frontiers of a thousand leagues in extent, could, at the beck of the 
government, swell into legions of invaders, men able to carry war 
to the capitals of his own (rotates, thousands of miles from their own 
doors, and formidable alike for their energy, their bravery, then- 
readiness in the use of arms, and their numbers. He saw wdiat is 
p(?Thap3 justly called the boasting of the American character vindi- 
cated by their exploits; and marches, conquests, and victories that, 


200 


JACK TIER, 


if sober truth were alone to cover the pages of history, would far 
outdo in real labor and danger the boasted passage of the Alps under 
Nai)oleon, and the exploits that succeeded it. 

Don Juan Montefalderon was a grave and thoughtful man, of 
pure Iberian blood. He might have had about him a little of the 
exaltation of the Spanish character; the overflowings of a generous 
chivalry at the bottom; and, under its influence, he may have set too 
high an estimate on Mexico and her sons, but he was not one to 
shut his eyes to the truth. He saw plainly that the northern neigh- 
bors of his country were a race formidable and enterpiisine, and 
that of all the calumnies that had been heaped upon them by 
rivalries and European superciliousness, that of their not being mili- 
tary by temperament was, perhaps, the most absurd of all. On the 
contrary, he had himself, though anticipating evil, been astounded 
by the suddenness and magnitude of their conquests, which in a few 
short months after the breaking out of hostilities, had overrun regions 
larger in extent than many ancient empires. All this had been done, 
too, not by disorderly and barbarous hordes, seeking in other lands 
the abundance that was wanting at home; but with system and 
regularity, by men who had turned the plowshare into the sword for 
the occasion, quitting abundance to encounter fatigue, famine, and 
danger. In a word, the Senor Montefalderon saw all the evils that 
environed his own land, and foresaw .others, of a still graver char- 
acter, that menaced the future. On matters such as these did he 
brood in his wuilk, and bitter did he find the minutes of that sad 
and lonely watch. Although a Mexican, he could feel; although an 
avowed foe of this good republic of ours, he had his principles, his 
affections, and his sense of right. Whatever be the merits of the 
quarrel, and we are not disposed to deny that our provocation has 
been great, a sense of right should teach every man that what may 
be patriotic in an American, would be exactly the same thing in 
a Mexican, and that we ought to respect in others sentiments that 
are so much vaunted among ourselves. Midnight at length arrived, 
and, calling the cook and steward, the unhappy gentleman was re- 
lieved, and went to his berth to dream, in sorrow, over the same 
pictures of national misfortunes, on which, while waking, he had 
brooded in such deep melancholy. 

The watch of Josh and Simon was tranquil, meeting with no in- 
terruption until it was time to summon .Jack. One thing these men 
had done, however, that was of some moment to Tier, under a 
pledge given by Josh, and which had been taken in return for a 
dollar in hand. They had managed to haul the lighthouse boat 
alongside, from its position astern, and this so noiselessly, as not to 
give the alarm to any one. There it lay, when Jack appeared, ready 
at the main-rigging, to receive him a any moment he might choose 
to enter it. 

A few minutes after Jack appeared on deck. Rose and Biddy came 
stealthily out of the cabin, the latter carrying a l>asket filled with 
bread and broken meat, and not weanling in sundry little delicacies, 
such as woman’s hands prepare, and in this instance, woman’s ten- 
derness liad provided. The whole party met at the galley, a place 
so far removed from the state-rooms aft as to be out of ear-shot. 
Here Jack renewed his endeavors to persuade either Josh or Simon 


JACK TIER. 


201 

to go in the boat, but without success. The negroes had talked the 
matter over in their watch, and had come to the conclusion the 
enterprise was too hazardous. 

“ 1 tell you, Jack, you doesn’t know Cap’in Spike as well as I, 
does,” Josh said, in continuance of the discourse. “Ko, you 
doesn’t know him at all as well as 1 does. It he finds out that any- 
body has quit dis brig dis werry night, woeful will come! It no 
good to try to run; 1 run free time, an’ Simon here run twice. 
What good it all do? W<j got cotched, and here we is, just as fast 
as ever. 1 knows Oap’in Spike, and doesn’t want to fall in athwart 
his hawse any more.” 

” Y-e-s, dat my judgment too,” put in the cook. “We wishes 
you well. Jack, and we wishes Miss Rose well, and Mr. Mulford well, 
but we can’t, no how, run ath’art hawse, as Josh says. Dat is my 
judgment, too.” 

” Well, if your minds are made up to this, my darkies, 1 s’pose 
there’ll be no changing them,” said Jack. ” At all ewents, you’ll 
lend us a hand, by answering any hail that may come from aft, in 
my watch, and in keepin’ our secret. There’s another thing you 
can do tor us, which may be of sarvice. Should Captain Spike 
miss the boat, and lay any trap to catch us, you can just light this 
here bit of lantern and hang it over the brig’s bows, where he’ll not 
be likely to see it, that we may knew matters are going wrong, and 
give the craft a- wide berth.” 

” Sartain,” said Josh, who entered heartily into the affair, so far 
as good wishes for its success were concerned, at the very moment 
when he had a most salutary care of his own back. ” Sartain; we 
do all dat, and no fank asked. It no great matter to answer a hail, 
o- to light a lantern and sling him over the bows; and if Captain 
Spike wants to know who done it, let him find out.” 

Here both negroes laughed heartily, manifesting so little care to 
suppress their mirth, that Rose trembled lest their noise should 
awaken Spike. Accustomed sounds, however, seldom produce this 
effect on the ears of the sleeper, and the heavy breathing from the 
state-room succeeded the merriment of the blacks, as soon as the 
latter ceased. Jack now announced his readiness to depart. Some 
little care and management were necessary to get into the boat noise- 
lessly, more especially with Biddy. It was done, however, with the 
assistance of the blacks, who cast off the painter’, w’hen Jack gave 
the boat a shove to clear the brig, and suffered it to drift astern for 
a considerable distance before he ventured to cast loose the sail. 

”1 know Spike well,” said Jack, in answer to a remonstrance 
from the impatient Rose concerning his delay: ”a single flap of 
that canvas would wake him up, with the brig anchored, while he ‘ 
would sleep through a salute of heavy guns if it came in regular 
course. Quick ears has old Stephen, and it’s best to humor them. 
In a minute more we’ll set our canvas and be off.” 

All was done as Jack desired, and the boat got away from the 
brig unheard and undetected. It was blowing a good breeze, and 
Jack Tier had no sooner got the sail on the boat, than away it 
started at a speed that would have soon distanced Spike in his yawd 
and with his best oarsmen. The main point was to keep the 
course, though the direction of the wind wms a great assistant. By 


202 


JACK TIER 


keeping the wind abeam, Jack tbought he should be going toward 
the rork of MuUord. In one hour, or even in less time, he ex- 
pected to reach it, and he vvas guided by time, in his calculations, 
as much as by any other criterion. Previously to quitting the brig, 
he had gone up a few ratlins ot the fore-rigging to take the bear- 
ings of the fire on Mnlford’s rock, but the light was no longer visi- 
ble. As no star was to be seen, the course was a little vague, but 
Jack was navigator enough to understand that by, keeping on the 
weather side of the channel he was in the right road, and that his 
great danger of missing his object was in overrunning it. 

So much ot the reef was above water, that it was not diflicult to 
steer a boat along its margin. The darliuess, to be sure, rendered it 
a little uncertain how near they were running to the rocks, but. on 
the whole, Jack assured Pose lie had no great difficulty in getting 
along. 

“ These trades are almost as good as compasses,’' he said, “ and 
the rocks are better, if we can keep close aboard them without going 
on to them. 1 do not know the exact distance of the spot we seek 
from llie brig, but 1 judged it to be about two leagues, as 1 looked 
at it fioui aloft. Isow, this boat will travel them tw'o leagues in 
an hour, with this breeze and in smooth water.” 

“ 1 wish you had seen the fire again before we left the brig,” said 
Rose, too anxious for the result not to feel uneasiness on some ac- 
count or other. 

“The mate is asleep, and the fire has burned down; thal’s the 
explaiuitiou. Resides, fuel is not too plenty on a ulace like that 
Mr. Mulford inhabils'just now. As we get near the spot, 1 shall 
look out for embers, which may sarve as a light-house, or beacon to 
guide us into port.” 

‘‘ Mr, Mullord will be charmed to see us, now that wo take him 
w'ather!” exclaimed Biddy. ” Wather is a blessed thing, and it’s 
hard will be the heart that does not fale gratitude for a plenty of 
swate wather.” 

“The maty has plenty of food and water where he is,” said 
Jack. “ I’ll answer for both them sarcumstauces. 1 saw him turn 
a turtle as plain as if 1 had been at his elbow, and 1 saw him drink- 
ing at a hole iu the rock, as heartily as a boy ever pulled at a gim- 
let-hole in a molasses hogshead.” 

“ But the distance was so great. Jack, 1 should hardly think you 
could have distinguished objects so small.” 

“ 1 went b}’’ the motions aitogelher. 1 saw the man, and 1 saw 
the movemenls, and I kuovved what the last meant. It’s true 1 
couldn’t swear to the turtle, though 1 saw something on the rock 
that ] knowed, by the way in which it was handled, ‘/uusi be a tur- 
tle. Ihien 1 saw the mate kneel, and put his head low, and then I 
knowed he was drinking. ’ 

” Perhaps he prayed,” said Rose, solemnly 

“ Rot he. [Sailors isn’t so apt to pray. Miss Rose: not as apt as 
they ought to be. Women for prayers, and men tor work. Mr. 
Mulford is no worse than many others, but 1 doubt if he be much 
given to ” 

To this Rose made no answer, but Biddy toolc the matter up, and, 
as the boat went briskli'' ahead, she pursued the subject. 


JACK TIER. 


203 


'' Then more is the shame for him,” said the Irishwoman; ” and 
Miss Itose, and missus, and even 1 prayin’ /(9r him, all as it he was 
our own hr udder. It’s seldom 1 ask anything for a heretic, but 1 
could not forget a fine young man like Mr. Mulford, and Miss Rose 
so partial to him, and lie in so bad a way. He ought to be ashamed 
to make his brags that he is too proud to pray.” 

” Harry has made no such wicked boast,” put in Rose, mildly; 
“ nor do we know that he has not prayed for us, as well as for him- 
self. It may all be a mistake of Jack’s, you know.” 

” Yes,” added Jack, coolly, ” it may be a mistake, a’ter all, for 1 
was lookin’ at the maty six miles off, and through a spy-glass. No 
one can be sure of anything at such a distance. ISo oveilook the 
mailer, my good Biddy, and carry Mr. Mulford the nice things 
you’ve mustered in that basket, all the same as if he was Pope.” 

” This is a subject we had better drop,” Rose quietly observed. 

” Anything to oblige you. Miss Rose, though religion is a mat- 
ter it would do me no harm to talk about once and awhile. It’s 
many a long year since I've had time and opportunity to bring my 
tliouglits to dwell on holy things. Plver since 1 left my mother’s 
side, I’ve been a wanderer in my mind as much as in n;y body.” 

” Poor Jack! 1 understand and feel for your sufferings; but a 
belter lime will come, when you may return to the habits of your 
youth, and to the observances of your Church.” 

” Jl don’t know that. Miss Rose; 1 don’t know that,” answered 
Tier, placing the elbow of his short arm on tlie seeminglv shorter 
leg, and bending bis head so low as to lean his face on the palms of 
the hand, an altitude in which he appeared to be suffering keenly 
through his recollections, “Childhood and innocence never come 
hack to us in Ibis world. What the grave may do, we shall all 
learn in time/’ 

“ Innocence can return to all with repentance. Jack; and the 
heart that prompts you to do acts as generous as this you are now 
engaged in, must contain some good seed yet.” 

“ if Jack will go to a praste and just confess, when he can find ‘ 
a father, it will do his sowl good,” said Bidd^. wlio was touched 
by the mental suffering of the strange little being at her side. 

Blit the necessity of managing the boat soon compelled its cock- 
swain to raise his liead. and to attend to his duty. The wind some- 
times came in puffs, and at such moments Jack saw that the large 
sail of the light-house boat required watching, a circumstance that 
induced him to shake off his melancholy, and give his mind more 
exclusively to the business before him. 

As for Rose, she .sympathized deeply with Jack Tier, for she 
knew his history, his origin the' story of his youth, and the well- 
grounded causes of liis contrition and regrets. From her, Jack had 
concealed nothing, the gentle commiseration of one like Rose being 
a balm to wounds that had bled for long and bitter years. The 
great poet of our language, and the greatest that ever lived per- 
haps, short of the inspired writers of the Old Testament, and old 
Homer and Dante, has well reminded ns that the “little beetle,” 
in yielding its breath, can “ feel a pang as great as when a giant 
dies.” Thus is it, too, in morals. Abasement, and misery, and 
poverty, and sin may, and all do, contribute to lower the lone of 


JACK TIER. 


^04 

our moral existence; but the principle that has been planted by nat- 
ure, can be eradicated by nature only. It exists as long as we exist; 
and if dormant for a time, under the piessure of circumstances, it 
merely lies, in the moral system, like the acorn, or the chestnut, in 
the ground, waiting its lime and season to sprout, and bud, and 
blossom. Should that time never arrive, it is not because the seed is 
not there, but because it is neglected. Thus was it with the singu- 
lar being of 'whose feelings we have just spoken. The germ ol 
goodness had been implanted early in him, and was nursed with 
tenderness and care, until, self-willed, and governed by passion, he 
had thrown ofi the connections of youth and childhood, to connect 
himself with Spike— a connection that had left him -v^diat he was. 
Before closing our legend, we shall have occasion to explain it. 

“We have run our hour, Miss Rose,” resumed Jack, breaking a * 
continued silence, during which the boat had passed through a 
long line of water; “ w^e have run our hour, and ought to be near 
the rock 'we are in search of. But the morning is so dark that 1 
fear we shall have difficulty in finding it. It will never do to run 
past it, and we must haul closer into the reef, and shorten sail, 
that we may be sartain to make no such mistake.” 

Rose begged her companion to omit no precaution, as- it w^ould 
be dreadful to fail in their search, after incurring so much risk in 
their own persons. 

“ Harry may be sleeping on the sea- weed of which you spoke,” 
she added, “ and the danger of passing him will be much increased 
in such a case. What a gloomy and frightful spot is this, in which 
to abandon a human being! 1 fear. Jack, that we have come faster 
than we supposed, and may already have passed the rock.” 

“ 1 hope not. Miss Rose — it seemed to me a good two leagues to 
the place where 1 saw him, and the boat is fast that will run two 
leagues in an hour.” 

“We do not know the time, Jack, and are obliged to guess at 
that as well as at the distance. How very dark it is!” 

Dark, in one sense, it w^as not, though Rose’s apprehensions, 
doubtless, induced her to magnify every evil. The clouds cer- 
tainly lessened the light of the moon; but there w’as still enough of 
the last to enable one to see surrounding objects; and most espe- 
cially to render distinct the character of the solitude that reigned 
over the place. 

The proximity of the reef, which formed a weather-shore to the 
boat, prevented anything like a swell on the water, notwithstanding 
the steadiness and strength of the breeze, which had not blown for 
near twenty-four hours. The same wind, in open water, would liave 
raised sea enough to cause a ship to pitch or roll; wherf'asthe light- 
house boat, placed where she W’^as; scarce rose and fell under the 
undulations of the channel througb which she was glancing. 

“ This is a good boat, and a fak boat, loo,” observed Jack Tier, 
after he had lufled up several minutes, in order to make sure of his 
proximity to the reef; “and it might carry us all sate enough to 
Key West, or certainly back to the Dry Tortugas, was we inclined 
to try our hands at either.” 

“ 1 can not quit my aunt,” said Rose, quickly, “ so we will not 
even think of any such thing.” 


JA(1K TIEK. 


205 


“No, ’twoulci never do to abandon the missus,” said Biddy, 
“ and she on the wrack wid us, and falin’ the want ot watlier as 
much as ourselves.” 

“ We three have sartainly gone through much in company,” re- 
turned Jack, ‘‘ and it ought to make us friends for life.” 

” 1 trust it will. Jack; 1 hope, when we return to New York, to 
see you among us, anchored, as you would call it, for the rest of 
your days under my aunt’s roof, or under my own, should 1 ever 
have one.” 

“ No, Miss Kose, my business is with the ‘ Swash ’ and her cap- 
tain. I shall stick by both, now I’ve found ’em again, until they 
once more desart me. A man’s duty is his duty, and a woman’s 
duly is duty.” 

“ You same to like the brig and her captain. Jack Tier,” observed 
Biddy, “ and there’s no use in gainsaying such a likin’. What will 
come to pass, must come to pass. Captain Spike is a mighty great 
sailor, anyway.” 

“ He’s a williau!” muttered Jack. 

“ There!” ciied Rose.-almost breathless, “ there is a rock above 
the water, surely. Do not fly by it so swiftly. Jack, but let us stop 
and examine it.” 

“ There is a rock, sure enough, and a large piece it is,” answered 
Tier. “We will go alongside of it, and see what it is made ot. 
Biddy shall be boat-keeper, while you and 1, Miss Rose, explore.” 

Jack had thrown the boat into the wind, and' v/as shooting close 
alongside of the reef, even -wdiile speaking. The p^irty found no 
difficulty in landing; the margin of the rock admitting the boat to 
lie close alongside of it, and its surface being even and dry. Jack 
had brailed the sail, and he brought the painter ashore, and fastened 
it securely to a fragment of stone, that made a veiy sufticient 
anchor. In addition to this precaution, a lazy painter was put into 
Biddy’s hands, and she was directed not to let go of it while her 
companions were absent. These arrangemenls concluded, Rose and 
Jack commenced a hurried examination of the. spot. 

A few minutes sufficed to give our adventurers a tolerably accu- 
rate notion of the general features ot the place on which they had 
landed. It was a considerable portion of the reef that w^as usually 
above water, and which had even some fragments ot soil, or sand, 
on which was a slinted growth ot bushes. Of these last, however, 
there were very few, nor w^ere there many spots of the sand. Drift- 
wood and sea-weed were lodged in considerable quantities about its 
mai’gin, and, in places, piles of both had been tossed upon the rock 
itself, by the billows of former gales ot wdnd. Nor was it long be- 
fore Jack discovered a turtle that had been up to a hillock ot sand, 
prabably to deposit its eggs. There was enough ot the sportsman 
in Jack, notwithstanding the business he was on, to turn this animal; 
though wdlh what object, he might have been puzzled himself to 
say. This exploit effected. Jack followed Rose as fast as his short 
legs would permit, our heroine pressing forward eagerl}'', though al- 
most without hope, in order to ascertain if Mulford were there. 

“i am afraid this is not the rock,” said Ross, nearly breathless 
with her own haste, when Jack had overtaken her. “ 1 see nothing 
ot him, and we have passed over most of the place.” 


206 JACK TIKR., 

“ Yerj true, Miss ‘Rose,” answered her companion, who was in 
^ood-humor on account of his capture of the turtle; “ hut there are 
other rocks besides this. Ila! what was that, vender,” pointing with 
a finger, “ here, more toward the brig. As Fm a sinner, there was 
a flashing as of fire.” 

” If a tire, it must be that made by Harry. Let us go to the spot 
at once.’-’ 

Jack led the way, and, sure enough, he soon reached a place 
where the embers of what had been a considerable body of tire, 
were smoldering on the rock. The wind had probably caused 
some brand to kindle momentarily, which was the object that had 
caught Tier's eye. No doubt any longer remained of their having 
found the very place wdiere the mate had cooked his supper, and 
lighted his beacon, though he himself was not near it. Arciind 
these embers were all the signs of Mulfurd’s having made tie meal, 
of which dack had seen the preparations. A portion of the turtle, 
much the greater part of it, indeed, lay in its shell; and piles of 
wood and sea weed, both dry, had been placed at hand, ready for 
use. A ship’s topgallant-yard, with most of its rope attached, la.y 
with a cliarred end near the fire, or where the fire had been, the 
wood having burned until the flames went out for want of contact 
w’ith other fuel. There were many pieces of boards of pitch-pine in 
the adjacent heap, and two or lliree beautiful planks of the same 
wmod, entire. In short, from the character and quantity of the 
materials of this nature that had thus been heaped logetlier, Jack 
gave it as his opinion that some vessel, freighted with lumber, had 
been wrecked to windward, and that the adjacent rocks had been re- 
ceiving the tribute of hei- cargo, 'Wrecks are of very, very frequent 
occurrence on the Florida Reef: and there are ahvays moments 
when such gleanings are to be made in some part of it or other. 

” I see no better way to give^ a call to the mate. Miss Rose, than 
to throw some of this dry weed and some of this lumber on the 
fire,” said Jack, after he had rummaged about the place sufficiently 
to become master of its condition. ” There is plentj" of ammunition, 
and here goes for a broadside.” 

Jack had no great difficulty in effecting his object. In a few 
minutes he succeeded in obtaining a flame, and then he ted it with 
such fragments of the brands and boards as w'ere best adapted to 
his purpose. The flames extended gradually, and by the time flier 
had dragged the topgallant-yard over the pile, and placed several 
planks, on their edges, alongside of it, the whole was ready to burst 
into a blaze. The liglit w’^as shed atliwart the rock for a long dis- 
tance, and the wdiole place, which was lately so gloomy and obscure, 
now became gay, under the bright radiance of a blazing fire. 

“ There is a beacon liglit that might almost be seen on board 1” 
said Jack, exulting in his success. “ If the mate is anywhere in 
this latitude, he will soon turn up.” 

” 1 see nothing of him,” answered Rose, in a melancholy voice, 
‘‘ Surely, surely, Jack, he cannot have left the rock just as we 
have come to rescue him!” 

Rose and lier companion had turned their faces from the fire to 
look in an opposite direction in quest of him they sought. Unseen 
by them, a human form advanced swu'ftly toward the fire, from a 


JACK TIEE, 


207 

point on its other side. It advanced nearer, then hesitated, after- 
ward rushed forward with a tread that caused the two to turn, and 
at the next moment, Rose was clasped to the heart of Muiford. 


CHAPTER XI. 

I might have pass’d that lovely cheek. 

Nor, perchance, my heart have left me; 

But the sensitive blush that came trembling there, 

Of my heart it forever bereft me. 

Who could blame had I loved that face. 

Ere my eyes could twice exijlore her; 

' Yet it is for the fairy intelligence there, 

And her warm, warm heart, I adore her. 

Wolfe. 

The stories of the respective parties who had thus so strangely 
met on that barren and isolated rock, were soon told. Harry con- 
firmed all of Jack’s statements as to his own proceedings, and Rose 
had little more to say than to add how much her own affections had 
led her to risk in his behalf. In a word, ten minutes made each 
fully acquainted with the other’s movements. Then Tier consider- 
ately retired to the boat, under the pretense of minding it, and seeing 
everything ready for a departure, but as much to allow the lovers 
the ten or fifteen minutes of uninterrupted discourse that they now 
enjoyed, as for any other reason. 

It was a strange scene that now offered on the rock. By this time 
the fire was burning not only brightly, but fiercely, shedding its 
bright light far and ne*ar. Under its most brilliant rays stood Harry 
and Rose, both smiling and happy, delighted in their meeting, and, 
for the moment, forgetful of all but their present felicity. Never, 
indeed, had Rose appeared more lovely than under these circum- 
stances. Her face "was radiant with tiiose feelings which had so 
recently changed from despair to delight— a condition that is ever 
most propitious to beauty; and charms that always appeared femi- 
nine and soft, now seemed elevated to a bright benignancy that might 
best be likened to our fancied images of angels. The mild, beaming, 
serene, and intelligent blue eyes, the cheek flushed with happiness, 
the smiles that came so easily, and were so replete with tenderness, 
and the rich hair, deranged by the breeze, and moistened by ihe air 
of the sea, each and all, perhaps, borrowed some additional luster 
from the peculiar light under which they were exhibited. As for 
Harry, happiness had thrown all the disadvantages of exposure, 
want of dress, and a face that had not felt the razor for six-and- 
thirty |iours, into the background. When he left the wreck, he had 
cast aside his cap and his light summer jacket, in order that they 
might not encumber him in swimming, but both hud been recovered 
when he returned with the boat to take off liis friends. In his ordi- 
nary sea attire, then, he now stood, holding Rose’s two hands in 
front of the fire, every garment clean and white as the w'aters of the 
ocean could make theraf but all betraying some of the signs of his 
recent trials. His fine countenance was full of the love he bore for 
the intrepid and devoted girl who hud risked so much in his behalf; 
and a painter might have wished to preser\e the expression of ar- 


208 


JACK TIER. 


dent, manly admiration which glowed in his face, answering to the 
gentle sympathy and womanly tenderness it met in that of Rose. 

The background of this picture was the wide, even surface of the 
coral reef, with its exterior setting of the,dark and gloomy sea. On 
the side of the channel, however, appeared the boat, already wind- 
ed, with Biddy still on the rock, looking kindly at the lovers by the 
fire, while Jack \N'as holding the painter, beginning to manifest a lit- 
tle impatience at the delay. 

“ They’ll stay there an hour, holding each other’s hands, and 
looking into each other’s faces,” half grumbled the little, rotund, 
assistant steward, anxious to be on his way back to the brig, ” on- 
less a body gives ’em a call. Captain Spike will be in no very good- 
humor to receive you and* me on board ag’in, if he should find out 
whiit sort of a trip we've been making hereaway.” 

“Let ’em alone — let ’em alone, Jacky,” answered the good-nat- 
ured and kind-hearted Irish woman. “ It’s happy they bees, jist 
now, and it does my eyes good to look at ’em.” 

“ Ay, they’re happy enough, noio; 1 only hope it may last.” 

“ Last! wdiat should help its lasting? Miss Rose is so good, and 
so handsome — and she’s a fortin’, too; and the mate so nice a young 
man. Think ot the likes of them. Jack, wantin’ the blessed gift of 
wather, and all within one day and two nights. Sure it’s Provi- 
dence that takes care of us, and not we ourselves! Kings on their 
thrones isn’t as happy as them at this moment.” 

“ Men’s willians!” growled Jack; “ and more fools women for 
trustin’ ’em!” 

“ Kot sich a nice j^ung man as our mate, Jacky; no, not he. 
Now the mate of the shipl came from Liverpool in, this time ten 
years agone, he was a villain. He grudged us our potaties, and our 
own bread; and he grudged us every dhrap of swate wather that, 
went into'our mouths. Call him a villain, it you will. Jack; but 
niver call the likes of Mr. Mulford by so hard a name.” 

“1 wish him well, and nothing else; and for that very reason 
must put a stop to his looking so fondl}'’ into that young woman’s 
face. Time v on’t stand still, Biddy, to suit the wishes of lovers; 
and Stephen Spike is a man not to be trifled with. Halloo ' there, 
maty! It’s high time to think of gettinij; under way.” 

At this summons both Harry and Rose started, l>ecoming aware 
of the precious moments they were losing. Carrying a large portion 
of the turtle, the former moved toward the craft, in winch all Avere 
sealed in less than three minutes, with the sail loose, and the boat 
in motion. For a few moments the mate was so much occupied 
with Rose, that he did not a-lvert to the course; but one of his ex- 
perience ccnild not long be misled on such a point, and he turned 
s.uddeuly to Tier who was steering, to remonstrate. 

“ How’s this, Jack!” cried Mulford ; “ you’ve got the boat’s head 
the wrong way.” 

“ Not 1, sir. She’s heading for the brig as straight as she can go. 
This Avind favors us on both legs; and it’s lucky it does, for ’twdll 
be hard on upon daylight afore we are alongside of her. You'll 
Avant half an hour of dark, at the very least, to get a good start of 
the ‘ Swash,’ in cose she 'makes sail a’ter you.” 

“ Straight for the brig! what have we to do with the brig? Our 


JACK TIER. 


209 


course is for Key West, unless it might be better to run clown before 
the wind to the Dry I'ortugas ^gain, and look for the sloop-of-war. 
Duty, and perhaps my own safety, tells me to let Captain Mull 
know what Spike is about with the ‘ Swash;’ and 1 shall not hesi- 
tate a moment about doing it, after all that has passed. Give me 
the helm. Jack, and let us wear short round on our heel.” 

” Never, master maty— never. I must go back to the brig. Miss 
Rose, there, knows that my business is with Stephen Sc ike, and 
with him only ” 

“ And I must return to my aunt, Harry,” put in Rose, herself, 
” It would never do for me to desert my aunt, you know.” 

” And 1 have been taken from that roch,,to be given up to the 
tender mercies of Spike again?” 

Tl)is was said rather in surprise, than in a complaining way; and 
it at once induced Rose to tell the young man the whole of their 
project. 

” Never, Harry, never,” she said firmly. “ It is our intention to 
return to the brig ourselves, and let you escape in the boar, after- 
ward. Jack Tier is of opinion ihis can be done without much risk, 
if we use proper caution and do not lose too much time. On no 
account would I consent to place you in the hands of Spike again 
— death would be preferable to that, Harry!” 

” And on no account can or will 1 consent to place you again in 
the hands of Spike, Rose,” answered the young man. ” Now that 
we know his intentions, such an act would be almost impious.” 

” Remember my aunt, dear Harry. What would be her situation 
in the morning, when she found herself deserted by her niece and 
Biddy — by me, whom she has nursed and watched from childhood, 
and whom she loves so vvell?” 

” ] shall not deny your obligations to your aunt, Rose, and your 
duty to her under^ord inary circumstances. But these are not ordi- 
nary circumstances; and it would be courting the direst misfort- 
unes, nay, almost braving Piovidence, to place jmurself in the hands 
of that scoundrel again, now that you are clear of them.” 

“ Spike’s a willian!” muttered Jack. 

” And my desartin’ the missus would be a sin that no praste 
would overlook aisily,” put in Biddy. “ When Miss Rose told me 
of this v’v'ge that she meant to make in the boat wid Jack Tier, 1 
asked to^come along, that 1 might take care of her, and see that 
there was plenty of wather; but lil-luck befall me it 1 would have 
fought of sich a thing, and the missus desarted,” 

” We can then run alongside of the brig, and put Biddy and Jack 
on board of her,” said Mulford, reflecting a moment on what had 
just been said, ” when you and 1 can make the best of our way to 
Key West, wheie the means of sending government vessels out after 
the ‘ Swash ’ will soon oflier. In this wa.y we can not only get our 
friends out of the lion’s jaws, but keep out of them ourselves.” 

“Reflect a moment, Harry,” said Rose in a low voice, but not 
without tenderness in its tones; “ it would nol do lor me to go ofl 
alone with you in this boat.” 

“ Not when you have confessed your willingness to go over the 
wide world with me. Rose — with me, and with me only?” 

“ Not even then, Harry. I know you will think better of this, 


210 


JACK TIER. 


when your generous nature has time to reason with your heart, on 
my account.” 

“lean only answer in your own words, Kose — never. If you 
return to the ‘ Swash.’ 1 hhbll go on board with you, and throw de- 
fiance into the very teeth of Spike. 1 know the men do not dislike 
me, and, perhaps, assisted by Senor Montefalderon, and a few 
friends among the people, .1 can muster a force that will prevent my 
being thrown into the sea.” 

Ro^e burst into tears, and then succeeded many minutes, during 
which Mulford was endeavoring, with manly tenderness, to soothe 
her. As soon as our heioine recovered her self-command, she began 
to discuss the matter at issue between them more coolly. For half 
an hour everything was urged by each that feeling, afiection, deli- 
cacy, or distrust of Spike could well urge, and Mulford was slowly 
getting the best of the argument, as well he might, the truth being 
mostly on his side. Rose was bewildered, really feeling a strong re- 
luctance to quit her aunt, even with so justifiable a motive, but 
principally shrinking from the appearance ' of going ofl; alone in 'a 
boat, and almost in the open sea, with Mulford. Had she loved 
Harry less, her scruples 'might not have been so active, but the con- 
sciousness of the strength of her attachment, as well as her fixed in- 
tention to become his wife the moment it was in tier power to give 
him her hand with the decencies of her sex, contributed strangely 
to prevent her yielding to ttie young man’s reasoning. On the kib- 
ject of the aunt, the mate made out so good a case, that it was ap- 
parent to all in the boat Rose would have to abandon that ground 
of refusal. tSpike bad no object. to gain by ill-treating Mrs. Budd; 
and the probability certainly was that he would get rid of her as 
soon as he could, and in the most easy manner. This was so ap- 
parent to all, that Harry had little difficulty in getting Rose to as- 
sent to its probability. But there remained the reluctance to go off 
alone with the mate in a boat. This part of the subject was more 
difficult to manage than the other; and Mulford betrayed as much 
by the awkwardness with which he managed it. At length the dis- 
cussion was brought to a close by Jack Tier suddenly saying — 

“ Yonder is the brig; and we are heading for her as straight as if 
she was the pole, and the keel of this boat was a compass. 1 see 
how it is, Miss Rose, and a’ter all, 1 must give in. 1 suppose some 
other opportunity will offer for me to get on board of the brfg ag’in, 
and I’ll trust to that. If you won’t go off with the mate alone, I 
suppose you’ll not refuse to go off in my company.” 

“ Will you accompany us, Jack? This is more than 1 had hoped 
foil Yes, Harry, if Jack Tier will be of the party, 1 will trust iny 
aunt to Biddy, and go with you to Key W’est, in order* to escape 
from Spike.” 

This was said so rapidly, and so unexpectedly, as to take Mnl- 
ford completely by surprise. Scarce believing what he heard, the 
young man was disposed, at first, to feel hurt", fliough a moment’s 
reflection showed liira that he ought to rejoice in the result, let the 
cause be what it might. 

“ More than 1 hoped for!” he could not refrain from repeating, a 
little bitterly; “ is Jack Tier, then, of so much importance, that 
company is -thought preferable to mine?” 


.TACK TTET?. 


^ 211 

“Hush, Harry!’’ said Rose, laying her hand on Mulford’s arm, 
by way of strengthening lu^r appeal “Do not say that. You are 
ignorant; of circumstances; at another time you shall know them, 
but not now. Let it be enough for the present, that I promise to 
accompany you if Jack will be of our party.” 

“ Ay, ay. Miss Rose, I will be of the party, seeing there is no 
other way of getting the lamb out of the jaws ‘of the wolf. A’ter 
all, it maybe the wisest thing 1 can do, though back to the ‘ Swash ’ 
1 must and loill come, powder or no powder, treason or no treason, 
at the first opportunity. Yes, my business is with the ‘ Molly,’ and 
to the* Molly ’1 shall return. It’s lucky. Miss Rose, since you 
have tnadQ up your mind to ship for this new cruise, that Tbe- 
thought me of telling Biddy to make up a bundle of duds lor you. 
This carpet-bag has a change or tw'o in it, and all owing to my fore- 
thought. Your woman saitl, ‘ Miss Rose will come back wid ns. 
Jack, and what’s the use of rumplin’ the clothes for a few hours’ 
sail in the boat;’ but 1 knew womankind better, and toreseed that 
if master mate fell in alongside of you ag’in, you would not be apt 
to part company very soon.” 

“ 1 thank you. Jack, for the provision made for my comfort; 
though some money would have added to it materially. My purse 
has a little gold in it, but a very little, and 1 fear you are not much 
better off, Harry. It will be awkward to find ourselves in Key 
West penniless.” 

“We shall not be quite that. I left the brig absolutely without a 
cent, but foreseeing that necessity might make them of use, 1 bor- 
rowed half a dozen of the doubloons from the bag of Senor Monte- 
falderon, and fortunately, they are still in ray pocket. Yll 1 am 
worth in the world is in a bag of lialf-eagles. rather more than a 
hundred altogether, which 1 left in my chest, in my own state-roorn 
aboard the brig.” ' ’ 

“ You’ll find that jn the caipet-bag, too, master mate,” said Jack, 
coolly. 

“ Find what, man— not my money, surely?” 

“Ay, every piece of it. Spike- broke into your chest this a ’ter- 
noon, and made me liold the tools wntle he was doing it. He found 
the bag, and overhauled it — a hundred and seven half, eleren quar- 
ter, and one full-grown eagle, w'as the count. When he had done 
the job. he put all back ag’in, a’ter giving me the tuil-grown eagle 
for niy share of the plunder, and told me to say nothing of what I. 
had seen. 1 did say noUiing, but 1 did a good bit of work, for, 
wiiile be wAs at supper, 1 confiscated that bag, as they call it— and 
you will find it ibere among Miss Rose’s clothes, with the fuller- 
grown gentleman back in his nest ag’in.” 

“This is being not only lionest. Tier,” cried Mulford, heartily, 

“ but tlioiightfui One half that money shall be yours for this act.” 

“ 1 thnuk’ee, sjr; but I’ll not touch a cent of ii. It. came hard, 1 
know, Mr. Mulford; for my own bands have smarted too much 
with tar, not to know that the seaman ‘ earns his money like the 
horse.’” 

“ Still it would not be ‘spending it like an ass,’ Jack, to give 
you a portion of mine. But there will be other opportunities to talk 
of this. It is a sign of returning to the concerns of life. Rose, that 


212 


JACK TIER. 


money begins to be of interest to us. How little did we think of 
the doubloons, or half-eagles, a few hours since, when on the 
wreck!” ^ , 

“ It was wather that we t’ought of then,” put in Biddy. “ Goold 
is good in a market, or in a town, or to send back tolreland, to help 
a body’s aged fader or mudder in comfort wid; but wather is the 
blessed thing on a wrack!” 

” The brig is coming quite plainly into view, and you had better 
give me the helm. Jack, It is time to bethink us of the manner of 
approaching her, and how we are to proceed when alongside.” 

This was so obviously true, tliat everybody felt disposed to forget 
all other matters, in order to conduct the proceedings ^of the next 
twenty minutes with the necessary prudence and caution. When 
Mulford first took the helm, the brig was just coming clearly into 
view, though still looking a little misty and distant. She might 
then have been half a league distant, and would not have been visi- 
ble at all by that light, but for the circumstance that she had no 
background to swallow up her outlines. Drawn against clouds, 
above which the rays of the moon were shed, her tracery was to be 
discerned, however, and, minute by minute, it was getting to be 
more and more distinct, until it was now so plainly to be seen as to 
admonish the mate of the necessity of preparation in the manner 
mentioned. 

Tier now communicated to the mate his own proposed manner of 
proceeding. The brig tended to the trades, the tides having very 
little influence on her, in the bight of the reef where siie lay. As 
the wind stood at about east-south-east, the brig’s stern pointed to 
about west-north- west, while the boat was coming down the passage 
from a direction nearly north from her, having, as a matter of 
course, the wind just free enough to lay her course. Jack’s plan 
was to pass the brig to winriward, and having got well on her bow, 
to brail the sail, and drift down upon her, expecting to fall in along- 
side, abreast of the fore-chains, into which he had intended to help 
Biddy, and to ascend himself, when he supposed that Mulfora 
would again n>ake sail, and carry oft his misiress. To this scheme 
the mate objected that it was awkward, and a little lubberly. He 
substituted one in its place that differed in seamanship, and which 
was altogether better. Instead of passing to windward, Mulford 
suggested the expediency of approaching to leeward, and of coming 
alongside under the open bow’-port, letting the sheet fly and brailing 
the sail, when the boat should be near enough to carry her to the 
point of destination without further assistance from her canvas. 

Jack Tier took his officer’s improvement on his own plan in per- 
fect good part, readily and cheerfully expressing his willingness 
to aid the execution of it all tliat lay in his power. As the boat 
sailed imiisually well, there was barely time to explain to each in- 
dividual his or her part in the approaching critical movements, ere 
the crisis itself drew near; then each of tlie party became silent and 
anxious, and events were regarded rather than words. 

It is scarcely necessary to say that Mulford sailed a boat well. 
He held the sheet in his hand, as the little craft came up under the 
lee- quarter of the brig, while Jack stood by the brail. The eyes of 
the mate glanced over the hull of the vessel to ascertain, if possible, 


JACK TIEK. 


213 

who might be stirring; but not a sign of life could he delect on 
board her. This very silence made Mulford more distrusttul and 
anxious, for he feared a trap was set for him. He expected to see 
the head of one of the blacks at least peering over the bulwarks, but 
nothing like a man was visible. It was loo late to pause, however, 
and the sheet was slowly eased oft, Jack hauling on the brail at the 
same time; the object being to prevent the sail’s flapping, and the 
sound reaching the ears of Spike. As Mulford used great caution, 
and had previously schooled Jack on the subject, this important 
point was successfully achieved. Then the mate put his helm down, 
and the boat shot up under the brig’s lee-bow. Jack was ready 
to lay hold of one of the bowsprit shrouds, and presently the boat 
was breasted up under the desired port, and secured in that position. 
Mulford quitted the stern-sheets, and cast a look in upon deck. 
Nothing was to be seen, though he heard the heavy breathing of 
the blacks, both of whom were sound asleep on a sail that they had 
spread on the forecastle. 

The mate whispered for Biddy to come to the port. This the 
Irishwoman did at once, having kissed Kose, and taken her leave 
of her previously. Tier also came to the port, through which he 
passed, getting on deck with a view to assist Biddy, who was 
awkward, almost as a matter of course, to pass through the same 
opening. Be had just succeeded, when the whole party was 
startled, some of them petrified, indeed, by a hail from the quarter- 
deck, in the well-krown, deep tones of Spike. 

“ For’ard, there?” hailed the captain. Receiving no answer, he 
immediately repeated, in a shorter, quicker call, ” Forecastle, 
there?’* 

“ Sir,” answered Jack Tier, who by this time had come to his 
senses. 

” Who has the lookout on that forecastle?” 

” 1 have it, sk’— 1, Jack Tier. You know,., sir, 1 was to have it 
from two till daylight.” 

“ Ay, ay, 1 remember now. How does the brig ride to her 
anchor?” 

‘‘ As steady as a church, sir. She’s had no more sheer the whole 
watch than if she was moored head and stern.” 

” Does the wind stand as it did?” 

” No change, sir. As dead a trade-wind as ever browed.” 

Whut hard breathing is that I hear for’ard?” 

” ’Tis Ihe two niggers, sir. They’ve turned in on deck, and are 
napping it oft at the rate of six knots. There’s no keepin’ way with 
a nigger in snorin’. ” 

” i thought I heard loud whispering, too, but I suppose it was a 
sort of half dream. I’m often in that way, nowadays. Jack!” 

“Sir.” 

“Go to the scuttle-butt and get me a pot of fresh water— my 
coppers are hot with hard thinking.” 

Jack did as ordered, and soon stood beneath the coach-house-deck 
with Spike, who had come out of his state-room, heated and uneasy 
at he knew not what. The captain drank a full pint of water at a 
single draught. 


214 


JACK TIER. 


“That's refreshing,” he said, returning Jack the tin -pot, and 

1 feel (he cooler for it. How much does it want of daylight. Jack?” 

“ Two hours, 1 think, sir. The order was passed to me to have 
all hands called as soon as it was broad day.” 

“ Ay, that is right. We must get our anchor and be off as soon 
as there is light to do it in. Doubloons may melt as well as flour, 
and are best cared for soon, when cared for at all.” 

“ 1 shall see and give the call as soon as it is day. 1 hope. Cap- 
tain Spihe, 1 can take the liberty of an old shipmate, however, and 
say one thing to jou, which is this — look out for tlie ‘ Poughkeep- 
sie,’ which is very likely to be on your heels when you least expect 
her.” 

“ That’s your way of thinking, is it. Jack? Well, 1 thank you, 
old one, for the hint, but have little fear of that cratt. We’ve had 
our legs together, and I think the brig has the longest.” 

As the captain said this, he gaped like a hound, and went into 
his state-room. Jack lingered on the qtiarter-deck. "waiting to hear 
him fairly in his berth, when he made a sign to Biddy, "wlio had 
got as far aft as the galley, where she was secreted, to pass down 
into the cabin as silently as possible. In a minute or two more, he 
moved forward, singing ih a low, cracked voice, as was often his 
practice, and slowly made his way to the forecastle'. Multord was 
just beginning to think the fellow had changed his mind, and meant 
to stick by the brig, when the Jiitle rotund figure of the assistant- 
steward w'as seen passing through the port, and to (bop noiselessly 
on a thwart. Jack then moved to the bow, and cast off the painter, 
the head of the boat slowly falling oft under the pressure of (he 
breeze on that part of her mast and sail which rose above the hull of 
the “ Swash.” Almost at the same moment the mate let go the 
stern-fast, and the boat was free. 

It required some care to set the sail without the canvas flapping. 
It was done, however, before the boat fairly took the breeze, when 
all was safe. In halt a minute the wind struck tlie sail, and away 
the little craft started, passing swiftly ahead of the biig. Soon as 
far enough off, Multord put up his helm and wore short round, 
bringing the b(rat’s head to the northward, or in its proper direc- 
tion; alter which they flew along before the wind, which seemed to 
be increaKing in foice, with a velocity' that really appealed" to defy' 
pursuit. All this time the brig lay in its silence and solitude, no one 
stirdng on board her, and all, in fact, Biddy alone excepted, prm 
toundly ignorant of wliat had just been passing alongside of lier. 
Ten minutes of running oft with a flowing ""sheet caused the 
“ Swash ” to look indistinct and hazy aj^niii; in ten minutes more 
she was swallowed up, hull, spars, and all, iu the gloom of night. 

Mulford and Rose now felt something like that security, without 
the Si nse of which happiness itself is but an uneasy feeling, render- 
ing the anticipations of evil the more painfol by the magnitude of 
the stake. There they sat, now, in the stern-sheets by themselves. 
Jack Tier having placed himself near the bows of the boat, to look 
out for rocks, as well as to trim the craft. It was not Ions: before 
Rose was leaiiing on Harry’s shoulder, and ere an hour was past, 
she bad fallen into a sweet sleep in that attitude, the young man 
having carefully covered her person with a capacious shawl, the 


JACK TIER. 


216 


same that had been used on the wreck. As for Jack, he main- 
tained his post in silence, sitting with his "^rms crossed, and the 
hands thiust into the breast ot l.is jacket, sailor-fashion, a picliiie 
ot nautical vigilance. It w'as some time after Rose had fallen 
asleep, that this singular being spoke for the first lime. 

“ Keep her away a bit, maty,” lie said, “ keep her away, half a 
point or so. She's been travelin’ like a racer since we left the brig; 
and yonder’s the first streak of day.*’ 

“By the lime we have been running,” observed Mulford, “1 
should think we must be getting near the nortliern side of the reef.” 

“ All of that, sir, depend on it. Here’s a rock close aboard on 
us, to which we’re cornin’ fast — just o^ here, on our weather bow, 
that looks to me like the place where you landed a’ler that swim, 
and wdiere we had stowed ourselves when Stephen Spike made us 
out, and gave chase.” 

“ It is surprising to me. Jack, that you should have any famjy to 
stick by a man of Spike’s character. He is a precious rascal, as we 
all can see, now, and you are rather an honest sort of fellow.” 

“ Do you love the young woman there, that’s lyiiig in your arms, 
as it might be, and whom you say you w'ish to marry?” 

“The question is a queer one, but it is easily answered. More 
than my life. Jack,” 

“ Well, how happens it that you succeed, when the world has so 
many other young men who might please her as well as yourself?” 

“ It may be that no other loves her as well, and she has hud the 
sagacity to discover it.” 

“ Quite likely. Bo it is with me and Btephen Spike. I fancy a 
man whom other folk despise and condemn. Why 1 stand by him 
is my own secret; but stand by him 1 do and will.” 

“ This is air very strange, after your conduct on the island, and 
your conduct to-night, 1 shall not disturb your secret, however. 
Jack, but leave you to enjoy it by yourself. Is this the rock of 
which you spoke, that we are now passing?” 

“ The same; and there’s the spot in which we was stowed when 
they made us out from the brig; and hereaway, a cable’s length, 
more or less, Ihe'wreck of that Mexican craft must lie.” 

“ What is that rising above the water, thereaway, Jack; more on 
our weather beam?” 

“1 see what you mean, sir; it looks like a spar. By George! 
there’s two on ’em; and they do seem to be the schooner’s mgsts.” 

S<ire enough! a second look satisfied Mulford that two mast- 
heads were out of the water, and that within a hundred yards ot 
the place the boat was running past. Standing on a short distance, 
or far enough to give himselKroDm, the male put his helm down, 
and tacked the boat. The flapping of the sail, and the little move- 
ment of shifting over the sheet, awoke Rose, who was immediately 
apprised of the discovery,. As soon as round, the boat went glanc- 
ing up to the spars, and presently was riding by one. Jack Tier 
having caught hold ot a topmast-shroud, when Mulford let fly his 
sheet again, and luffed short up to the spot. By this time the in- 
creasing light was suflicientiy strong to render objects distinct, 
when near by, and no doubt remained any longer in the mind ot 


216 


JACK TIER. 


Muiford about the twg mastheads being those of the unfortunate 
Mexican schooner. 

“ Well, of all I have ever seed, I’ve never seed the like of this 
afore!” exclaimed Jack. “ When we left this here craft, sir, you’ll 
remember, she had almost turned turtle, laying over so far as to 
bring her upper coamings under water; now she stands right side 
up, as erect as if docked! My navigation can’t get along with this, 
Mr. Multord, and it does seem like witchcraft.” 

“ It is certainly a very singular incident, Jack, and 1 have been 
trying to come at its causes.” 

“ Have you succeeded, Harry?” asked Rose, by this time wide 
awake, and wondering like the others. 

” It must have happened in this wise. The wreck was abandoned 
by us some little distance out here, to windward. The schooner’s 
masts, of course, pointed to leeward, and when she drifted in here, 
they have fiist touched on a shelving rock, and as they liave been 
shoved up, little by little, they have acted as levers to right the hull, 
until the cargo has shitted back into its proper berth, which has 
suddenly set the vessel up again.” 

‘‘Ay, ay, sir,” answered Jack, “all that might have happened 
had she been above water, or any part of her" above water; but 
you’ll rcmeniber, maty, that soon alter we left her she went down.” 

‘‘ Kot entirely. The wreck settled in the water no taster alter we- 
had left it, than it 4iad done before. It continued to sink, inch by 
inch, as the air escaped, and no faster after it had gone entirely out 
of sight than before; not as fast, indeed, as the water became denser 
the lower it got. The great argument against my theory, is the 
fact, that after the hull got beneath the surface, the wind could not 
act on it. This is irue in one sense, and not in another. The 
waves, or the pressure ot the water produced by the wind, might 
act on the hull for some time after we ceased to see it. But the cur- 
rents have set the craft in here, and the hull floating always, very 
little force vould cant the craft. It the rock were shelving and 
slippery, L see no great difficulty in the way; and the barrels may 
have been so lodged, that a t'ifle would set them rolling back again, 
each one helping to produce a change that would move another. As 
for the ballast, that, 1 am certain, could not shift, for it was stowed 
wflth great care. As the vessel righted, the air still in her moved, 
and as soon as the water permitted it, escaped by the hatches, when 
the craft went down, as a matter of course. This air may have 
aided in bringing the hull upright by its movements in the water.” 

This was the only explanation to which the ingenuity of Muiford 
could help him, under the circumstances, and it may have been the 
right one, or not. There lay the schooner, however, in some five or 
six fathoms of water, with her. two topmasts and lower mast-heads 
out of the element, as upright as if docked! It may all have oc- 
curred as the mate fancied, or the unusual incident may have been 
owing to some of the many mysterious causes which baffle inquiry, 
when the agents are necessarily hidden from examination. 

” Spike intends to come and look tor this wreck, you tell me. 
Jack, in the hope of getting at the doubloons it contains?” said 
Muiford, when the boai, had lain a minute or two longer, riding by 
the mast-head 


217 


JACK TIeIi. 

“ Ay, ay, sir; ihal’s his notion, sir, and he’ll be in a great stew, 
as soon as he turns out, which must he about this time, and finds 
me missing; for 1 was to pilot him to the spot.” 

“ He’ll want no pilot now. It will scarcely be possible to pass 
anywhere near this and not see these spars. But this discovery al- 
most induces me to change my own plans. What say you, Hose? 
We have now reached the northern side of the reef, when it is time 
to haul close by the wind, if we wish to beat up to Key West. 
I here is a moral certainty, however, that the sloop-ot-war is some- 
where in the neighborhood of the Dry Torlugas, which are much 
the most easily reached, being to leeward. We might run down to 
the light-house by mici-day, while it is doubtful if we could reach 
the town until to-morrow morning. 1 should like exceedingly to 
have five minutes’ conversation with the commander of the 
‘Poughkeepsie.’” 

“ Ay, to let him know where he will be likely to fall in with the 
‘ Molly Swash ’ and her traitor master, Stephen Spike,” cried Tier. 
” Kever mind, maty; let ’em come on; both the ‘ Molly ’ and her 
master have got long legs and clean heels. Stephen Spike will show 
’em how to thread the channels of a reef,” 

“It is amazing to me, Jack, that you should stand by your old 
captain in feeling, while you are helping to thwart nim, all you can, 
in his warmest wishes.” 

He’s a willian!”' muttered Jack— “ a reg’lar wjllian is Stephen 
Spike!” 

” It a villain, why do you so evidently wish to keep him out of 
the hands of the law? Let him be captured and punished, as his 
crimes require.” 

‘‘ Men’s willians, all round,” still muttered Jack. ” Hark’ee, Mr 
Mulford, I’ve sailed in the brig longer than you, and know’d iier 
in her conieliestapd best days — when she was young, and blooming, 
and lovely to the eye, as the young creature at your side — and it 
wmuld go to my heart to have anything happen her. Then, I've 
know’d Stephen a Jong time, too, and old shipmates get a feelin’ 
for each other, sooner or later. I tell you now, hoDesll}^ Mr. Mul- 
ford, Captain Adam Mull shall never make a prisoner of Stephen 
Spike, if I can prevent it.” 

The mate laughed at this sally, but Rose appeared anxious to 
change the conversation, and she managed to open a discussion on 
the course it might be best to steer. Mulford had several excellent 
reasons to urge for wishing to run down to the islet, all of which, 
with a single exception, he laid before his betrothed. The concealed 
reason was one of tire strongest of them all, as usually happens 
Tvhen there is a reason to conceal, but of that he took care to say 
nothing. The result was an acquiescence on the part of Rose, 
whose consent was yielded more to the influence of one particular 
consideration than to all the rest united. That one was this: Harry 
had pointed out to her the importance to himself of his appearing 
early to denounce the character and movements of the brig, lest, 
through his former situation in her, his own conduct might be seri- 
ously called in question. 

As soon as the matter was determined. Jack was told to let go his 
hold, the sheet was drawn aft, and away sped the boat. No sooner 


JACK TIER. 


218 

did Multord cause the little craft to keep away, than it almost 
flew, as if conscious it weie bound to its proper home, skimming 
swittlv over the waves, like a bird lelurning eagerly to its nest. An 
hour later, the party breakfasted. While at this meal, J‘Ack Tier 
pointed out to the ‘mate a white speck in the south-eastern board, 
whicli he took to be the brig coming through' the passage, on her 
way to the wreck. 

“ Ko matter,” returned the mate. ” Though we can see her, she 
can not see us. There is that much advantage in our being small, 
Rose, if It do prevent our taking e.xercise by walking the deck.” 

Soon alter, Mulford made a very distant^sail in the north-western 
board, whicl) he hoped might turn out to be the ” Poiighkeepsie.” 
It was blit another speck, but its position was somewhat like that 
in which he had expected to meet the slonp-of-war. The tw’o ves- 
sels were so far apart that one could not be seen from the other, and 
there was little hope that the ” Poughkeepsie ” would detect Spike 
at his toil on the wreck; but the male fully expected that the ship 
would go into the anchorage, among the islets, in order to ascertain 
what had become of the schooner. If she did not go in herself, she 
would be almost certain to send in a boat. 

The party from the brigantine had run-down before the wind 
more than tw^o hours before the light-house beean to show itself, 
just rising out of the waves. This gave them the advantage of a 
beacon, Mulford having steered hitherto altogether by the sun, the 
direction of the wind, and the trending of the reef, Now he had 
his port in sight, it being his intention to taue possession of the 
dwelling of the lislit-dioiise , keeper, and to remain in it, until a 
favorable opportunity occurred to remove Rose to Key West. The 
young man nad also another important project in view', which it 
will be in season to mention as it reaches the moment of its fulfill- 
ment. 

The rate of sailing of the liglit-liouse boat, running before a brisk 
trade wind, could not be much less than nine miles in the hour. 
About eleven o’clock, therefore, the lively* craft shot through one 
of the narrow channels of the islets, and entered the haven. In a 
few minutes all three of the aaveniurers were on the little wharf 
where the light-house people were in the habit of landing. Rose 
proceeded to the house, while Harry and Jack remained to secure 
the boat. For the ialler purpose a sort of slip, or little dock, had been 
made, and when the boat was hauled into it, it lay so snug that not 
only ivas the craft secure from inmry, but it was actually hid from 
the view of all but those who stood directly aliove it. 

“This is a snug berth for the boat, Jack,” observed the mate, 
when he had hauled it into the pilace mentioned, “ and by unstep- 
ping the inasr, a passer-by would not suspect such a craft of lying 
in it. Who knows wdiat occasion tliere may be for concealment?*and 
I’ll e’en do that thing.” 

To a cnsual listener, Harry, in unstepping the mast, might have 
seemed influenced merely by a motiveless impulse; but in truth, a 
latent suspicion of Jack’s intentions instigated him; and as belaid 
the mast, sprit, and sail on the thwarts, he determined, in his owm 
mind, to remove them all to some other place, as soon as an oppor- 


JACK TIER. 219 

tiinity for doing so unobserved should occur. He and Jack now 
tol lowed Rose to the house. 

The islets were found, deserted and tenantless. Rot a human 
being had entered the house since Rose left it, the evening she had 
remained so long ashore, in company with her aunt and the Senor 
Montefalderon. ■ This our heroine knew from the circumstance of 
finding a slight fastening of the outer door in the precise situation 
in which 5he had left it with her own hands. At first a feeling of 
oppression.,and awe prevailed with both Harry and Rose, when they 
recollected tne fate of those who had so lately been tenants of the 
place; but this gradually wore off, and each soon got to be more at 
home As for Jack, he very coolly rummaged the lockers, as he 
called the drawers and closets of the place, and made his prepara- 
tions for cooking a very delicious repast, in which calipash, and 
calipee were to be material ingredients, Tire necessary condiments 
were easily enough found in that place, turtle being a common dish 
there, and it was not long before steams that might have quickened 
the appetite of an alderman filled the kitchen. Rose rummaged, 
loo. and found a clean table cloth, plates, glasses, bowls, spoons, 
and knives; in a word, all that was necessary to spread a plain but 
plentiful board.- While all this was doing, Hairy took some tishing- 
tackle and proceeded to a favorable spot among the rocks. In 
twenty minutes he returned with a fine mess of that most delicious 
little fish that goes by the very unpoetical name of “ hog-fish,” from 
the circumstance of its giving a grunt not unlike that of a living 
porker, when. rudely drawn from its proper element. Rolhing was 
now wanting to not only a comtortable, but to what was really a 
most epicurean meal, and Jack just begged the lovers to have 
patience for an hour or so, when he promised them dishes that even 
Rew York could not furnish. 

Harry and Rose first retired 1o pay a little attention to their dress, 
and then they joined each other in a walk. The mate had found 
some razors, and was clean shaved. He had also sequestered a 
shirt, and made some other little additions to Ids attire tuat contrib- 
uted to give him the appearance of being that wliich ho really 
was, a very gentlemanlike- looking young sailor. Rose had felt no 
necessity for taking liberties with the efiects of others, though a 
good deal of temale attire was found in tl»e dwelling. As was 
aftervvard ascertained, a family ordinarily dwelt there, but most of 
it had gone to Key West, on a visit, at the moment when the man 
and boy left in charge had fallen into the hands of the ^Mexicans, 
losing their lives in ihe manner mentioned. 

Widle walking together Harry opened his mind to Rose on the 
subject which lay nearest to his heart, and which liad been at the 
bottoin of this second visit to the islets of the Dry Toriugas. Dur- 
ing the difierent visits of Wallace to the brig, the boat’s crew cf the 
“ Poughkeepsie” had heldmoieor less discourse vviili tlie people 
of the “ Swa>h.” Tins usually happens on such occasions; and al- 
though Spike had endeavored to prevent it when his brig lay in this 
bay, he had not been entirely successful. Such discourse is com- 
monly jocular, and sometimes witty; every speecii, coming from 
whicdi 'side it may, ordinarily commenefng with “ shipmate,” 
though the interloculor-s never saw each other before that interview. 


220 


JACK TIER. 


I 


In one of the visits an allusion was made to cargo, when “ the pretty 
gal aft” was mentioned as being a part of the cargo of the 
“ Swash.” In answer to this remark, the wit of the “ Pough- 
keepsie ” had told the brig’s man, “you had better send heron 
board us, for we carry a chaplain, a regular-built one, that icill be 
a bishop some day or other, perhaps, and we can get her spliced to 
one of our young officers.” This remark had induced the sailor of 
the “ Molly ” to ask if a sloop-of-war really carried such a piece of 
marine luxury as a chaplain, and the explanation given went to say 
that the clergyman in question did not properly belong to the 
” Poughkeepsie,” but was to be put on board 'a frigate, as soon as 
they fell in with one that he named. Now, all this Mulford over- 
heard, and he remembered it at a moment when it might be of use. 
Situated as he and Rose were, he fell the wisdom and propriety of 
their being united, and his present object was to persuaiie his com- 
panion to be of the same way of thinking. He doubted not that 
the sloop-ot-war would come in ere long, perhaps that very day, 
and ho believed it would be an easy matter to induce her chaplain to 
perform the ceremony. America is a country in which every facility 
exists, with the fewest possible impediments, to getting marrietl; 
and, we regret to be compelled to add, to getting unmarried also. 
There are no bans, no licenses, no consent of parents even, usually 
necessary, and persons who are of the age of discretion, which, as 
respects temales and matrimony, is a very tender age indeed, may 
be married, it they see fit, almost without form or ceremony. There 
existed, therefore, no legal impediment to the course Mulford desired 
to take; and his principal, it not his only difficulty, would be with 
Rose. Over her scruples he hoped to prevail, and not without rea- 
son, as the case he could and did present, was certainly one of a 
character that entitled him to be heard with great attention. 

In the first place, Mrs. Budd had approved of the connection, and 
it was understood between them, that the ybung people were to be 
united at the first port in wffiich a clergyman of their own persuasion 
could be found, and previously to reaching home. This had been 
the aunt’s own project; for, weak and silly as she was, the relict 
had a woman’s sense of the proprieties. It had occurred to her that 
it would be more respectable to make the long journey which lay 
before them escorted by a nephew and husband, than escorted by 
even an accepted lover. It is true that she had never anticipated a 
marriage in a lighthouse, and under the circumstances in Avhich 
Rose was now placed, though it might be more reputable that her 
niece should quit the islets as the wife of Harry, than as his betrothed. 
Then Mulford still apprehended rtpike. In that remote part of the 
world, almost beyond the confines of society, it was not easj' to 
foretell what claims he might set up, in the event of his meeting 
them there. Armed with the authority of a husband, Mulford could 
resist him, in any such case, with far better prospects of success 
than it he sliould appear only in the character of a suitor. 

Rose listened to these arguments, ardently and somewhat eloquent- 
ly put, as a girl of her year’s and habits would be apt to listen to a 
favored lover. She was much too sincere to deny her own attach- 
ment, which the events of the last few days had increased almost to 
intenseness, so apt is our tenderness to augment in behalf of those tor 


JACK TIEK. 


221 


whom we feel solicitude; and judgment told her that the more 
sober part ot Harry’s leasocing was entitled to consideration. As 
his wife, her situation would certainly be much less equivocal and 
awkward than wdiile she bore a different name, and was admittled 
to be a single won^'an ; and it might yet be weeks before the duty she 
owed her aunt w’ould allow her to proceed to the north. But, after 
all, Harry prevailed more through the influence ot hia hold on Rose’s 
affections, as would have been the case with almost every other 
woman, than through any force of reasoning. lie truly loved, and 
that made him eloquent when he spoke ot love; sympathy in all he 
uttered being his great ally When summoned to the house by the 
call ot Jack, who^ announced that the turtle-soup was ready, they 
returned with the understanding that the chaplain of the “ Pough- 
keepsie ” should unite them, did the vessel come in, and would the 
functionary mentioned consent to perform the cerenrony. 

“It would be awkward — nay, it would be distressing, Harry, to 
have him. ref use,” said the blushing Rose, as they walked slowly 
'’back to the house, more desirous to prolong their conversation than 
to partake of the bountiful provision of Jack Tier, The latter could 
not but be acceptable, nevertheless, to a young man like Mulford, 
who was in robust health, and who had fared so badly for the last 
eiaht-and forty hours. When he sat down to the table, therefore, 
which was covered by a snow-white cloth, with smoking and most 
savory viands on it, it will not be surprising it we say it was with a 
pleasure that was derived from one of the great necessities of our 
nature. 

tSancho calls for benedictions “ on the man who invented sleep.” 
It w'ould have been more just to have asked this boon in behalf of 
him who invented eating and turtle soup. The wearied fall into 
sleep, as it might be, unwittingly; sometimes against their 'will, and 
often agmnst their fnterests; while many a man is hungry without 
possessino- the means of appeasing his appetite. Still more daily feel 
hunger without possessing turtle-soup. Certain persons impute this 
delicious compound to the genius of some London alderman, but 
we rather think unjustly. Aldermanic genius is easily excited and 
rendered active, no doubt, by strong appeals on such a theme, but 
our own experience inclines us to believe that' the tropics usually 
send their inventions to the less fruitful regions of the earth along 
with their products. We have little doubt, could the fact be now 
ascertained, that it would be found turtle-soup w^as originally in 
vented by just some such worthy as Jack Tier, who, in filling his 
coppers to tickle the captain’s appetite, had used all the con- 
diments within his reach; ventured on a sort of Regent’s punch; 
and, as the consequence, had brought forth the dish so often eulo- 
gized, and so w^ell beloved, It is a little extraordinary that in 
Paris’ the scat ot gastronomy, one rarely, if ever, hears of or sees 
this dish; while in London it is to be met in almost as great abund- 
ance as in one of our larger commercial towns. But so it is, and 
we can not say we much envy its cuisine a pates, and soufflets, and its 
d la this and ' d la thats, but which was never redolent with the 
odors of turtle-soup. 

“ Upon my word. Jack, you have made out famously with your 
dinner, or supper, whichsoever you may please to call it,” cried 


JACK TIER. 


222 

Mulford gayly, as li'etook his seat at the table, after having tiirnislied 
Rose with a chair. “ ISothing apft^ars to be wanting; but here is 
good pilot bread, potatoes even, and other little niceties, in addition 
to the turtle and the fish. These good people of the light seem to 
have lived comfortably, at any rate.” 

” Why should they not, maty?” answered Jack, beginning to help 
to soup. ” Living on one of these islets is like living afloat. Every* 
thing is laid in, a^ for an outward-bound craft; then the reef must 
always furnish fish and turtle. I’ve overhauled the lockers pretty 
thi>roughlv, and find a plenty of stores to last us. a mouth. Tea, 
sugar, coffee, bread, pickles, potatoes, onibns, and all other knick- 
knacks. ” 

‘‘ The poor people who own these stores will be heavy-hearted 
enough when the}'^ come to learn the reason why w’e have been put 
in undisturbed possession of their property,” said Rose. ” We must 
contrive some means of repaying them for such articles as we may 
use, Harry.” 

” That’s easily enough done. Miss Rose. Drop one of the half -eagles 
in a teapot, or abnug, and they ’ll be certain to fall in with it when they 
come back. Nothing is easier than to pay a bod^’^’s debts, when a 
body has the will and the means. Now, the. worst enemy of Stephen 
Spike must own that his brig never quits port with unsettled hills. 
Stephen has his faults, like other mortals; but he has his good 
p’ints, loo.” 

‘‘Still praising Spike, my good Jack,” cried the mate, a little 
provoked at this pertinacity in the deputy-steward, in sticking to his 
ship and his shipmate. ‘‘ 1 should have thought that you had sailed 
with him long enough to have found him out, and to wish never to 
put your foot in his cabin again.” 

‘‘ Why, no, maty, a craft is a craft, and a body gets to like even 
the faults of one in which a body has gone through gales and 
squalls, w'itli a whole skin. 1 like the ‘ Sw^ash,’ and, for sartain 
things, 1 like her capttiin. ” 

‘‘ Meaning by that, it is your intention to get on board of the one, 
and to sail vvith the other, again, as soon as you can.” 

‘‘1 do, Mr. Mulford, and make no bones in telling on’t. You 
know that 1 came here without wishing it.” 

” Well, .Jack, no one will attempt to control your movements, but 
you shall be left your own master. 1 feel it to be a duty, however, 
as one who may know more of the law than jmurself, as well as 
more of Stephen Spike, to tell you that he is engaged in a treason- 
able commerce with the enemy, and that he, and all who voluntarily 
remain wuth him, kn()wing this fact, may be made to swing for it.” 

” Then I’ll swing for it,” returned Jack, sullenly. 

” There is a'little obstinacy in ibis, my good fellow, and you must 
be reasoned out of it. 1 am under infinite obligations to you. Jack, 
anil shall ever be ready to own them. Without you to sail the boat, 
1 might have been left to perish on that rock— for God only know’-s 
whether any vessel would have seen me in passing. Most of those 
who go through that passage keep the western side of the reef aboard, 
they tell me, on account of there being water on that side of the 
channel, and the chance of a man’s being seen on a rock, by ships a 


JACK TIER. 


223 


leaf![ue or two off, would be small indeed. Yes, Jack. 1 pwe my life 
to you, and am proud to own it.” ' " 

” You owe it to Miss Rose, maty, who put me up to the enter- 
prise, and who shared it with me.” 

‘‘ To her 1 owe more than lite,” answered Harry, looking at his 
beloved as slie delighted in being regarded by him; ‘‘ but even she, 
with all her wishes to serve me,"^w()uld have been helpless without 
your skill in managing a boat. 1 owe also to your good nature the 
happiness of having Rose with me at this moment; for without you 
she would not have come.” 

“ I’Jl not deny it, maty — take another ladle-full of the soup, Miss 
Rosy; a quart of it wouldn’t hurt an infant — I’ll not deny it, Mr. 
Mulford— 1 know by the way you’ve got rid of the first bowLfull 
that you are ready for another, and there it is— I’ll not deny it, all 1 
can say is that you are heartily welcome to my sarvices.” 

“ 1 thank you. Jack; but all this only makes me more desirous of 
being of use to you, now, when it is in my power. 1 wish you to 
stick by me, and not return to the ‘ Swash.’ As soon as 1 Vet to 
N ew York, I shall build or buy a ship, and the berth of steward in 
her shall always be open to you.” 

” Thank’ee, maty; thank’ee, with all my heart. It’s something to 
kc.ow that a port is op'en to leeward, and, though 1 can not noxo ac- 
cept your offer, the day may come when 1 shall be glad to do so.” 

” If you like living ashore better, our house will aivvays be r*eady 
to receive you. 1 should be glad to leave as handy a little fellow as 
yourself behind me whenever 1 went to sea. There are a hundred 
things in which you might be useful and fully earn your biscuit, so 
as to have no qualms about eating the bread ot idleness.” 

” Thank’ee, thank’ee, maty,” cried Jack, dashing a tear out of his 
eye with the back of bis hand, ” thank’ee, sir, from the bottom of 
my heart. The \ymQmay come, but not now. My papers is signed 
for this v’y’ge. Stephen Spike has a halter round his neck, as you 
say yourself, and it’s necessary for me to be there to look to’t. We 
all have our callin’s and duties, and this is mine. I stick by the 
‘ JMolly ’ and her captain until both are out of this scrape, or both 
are condemned. -1 know nothin’ of treason; but if the law wants 
another victim, 1 must lake my chance.’* 

Mulford ^as surprised at this steadiness of Jack’s, in what he 
thought a very bad cause, and he was quite as much surprised that 
Rose did not join him in his endeavors to persuade the sleward not 
to be so foolhardy as to endeavor to go back to the brig. Rose did 
not. however; sitting silently eating her dinner the whole time, 
thougli she occasionally cast glances of interest at both the speakers 
the while. In this state of things the mate abandoned the attempt, 
for the moment, intending to return to the subject, after having had 
a private conversation with his betrothed. 

Notwithstanding the little drawback just related, that was a 
happy as well as a delicious repast. The mate did full justice to tlie 
soup, and afterward to the fish with the unpoetical name; and Rose 
ale more than she had done in the last three days. The habits of 
discipline prevented Jack from taking his seat at table, though 
pressed by both Rose and Harry to do so, but he helped himself to the 
contents of a bovvl, and did full justice to his own art, on one aside. 


JACK TIER. 


The little fellow was delighted with the praises that were bestowed 
on his dishes; and for the moment, tnesea, its dangers, its tornadoes, 
wrecks and races, were all forgotten in the security and- pleasures of 
so savory a repast. 

“ Folk ashore don’t know how sailors sometimes live,” said Jack, 
holding a large spoon filled with the soup ready to plunge into a 
tolerablj^ capacious mouth. 

“ Or how they sometimes starve,” answered Rose. “ Remember 
our own situation, less than forty-eight hours since!” 

” All very true. Miss Rose; yet, you see, turtle-soup brings us up, 
a’ter all. Would you like a glass of wine, matyF’ 

” ’Very much indeed, Jack, after so luscious a soup; but wishing 
for it will not bring it here.” 

‘‘ That remains to be seen, sir. 1 call this a bottle of something 
that looks wery much like a wine.” 

‘‘ Claret, as 1 live! AVhy, where should light-house keepers get 
the taste for claret?” 

” I’ve thought of that myself, Mr. Mulford, and have supposed 
that some of Uncle Sam’s officers have brought the liquor to this part 
of the w^orld. 1 understand a party on 'em was here surveyin’ all 
last winter. It seems they come in the cool weather, and get their 
sights and measure their distances, and go home in the w^arni weather, 
and work out their traverses in the shade, as it might be.” 

“ This seems likely, Jack; but, come whence it may, it is wel- 
come. and we will taste it.” 

Mulford then drew the cork of this mild and grateful liquor, and 
helped his companions and himself, in this age of moral tours de 
Jorce, one scarcely dare say anythma: favorable of a liquid that even 
bears the name of wine, or extol the sl»pe of a bottle. It is truly 
the era of exaggeration. Nothing is treated in the-old-fashioued, 
natural, common-sense way. Virtue is no longer virtue, unless it 
get upon stilts; and, as for sin’s being confined to ” transgression 
against the law of God,” audacious would be the retch wdio should 
presume to limit the sway of the societies by any dogma so narrow! 
A man may be as abstemious as an anchorite, and get no credit for 
it, unless “ he sign the pledge;” or, signing the pledge, he may get 
fuddled in corners, and be cited as a miracle of sobriety. The test 
of morals is no longer in the abuse of the gifts of Providence, but in 
their use; prayers are deserting the closet for the corners of streets, 
and charity (not the giving of alms) has got to be so earnest in the 
demonstration of its nature, as to be pretty certain to ” begin at 
home,” and to end where it begins. Even the art of mendacity has 
been aroused by the great progress w.hich is making by all around 
it, and many manifest the strength of their ambition by telling ten 
lies where their fathers would have been satisfied with telling only 
one. • This art has made an extraordinary progress within tl>e last 
quarter of a century, aspiring to an ascendency that was formerly 
conceded only to truth, until he who gains his daily bread by it has 
some such contempt for the sneaking wretch who does business on 
the small scale, as the slayer of his thousands in the field is known 
to entertain for him who kills only a single man in the course of a 
long life. 

At the risk of damaging the reputations of our hero and heroine, 


JACK TIEK. 


225 

we shall frankly aver the fact that both Harrv and Rose parlook of 
ihe mn de Bordeaux, a very respectable bottle of Medoc, by the way. 
which had been forgotten by Uncle Gain's people, in the course of 
the preceding winter, agreeably to Jack Tier’s conjecture. One 
glass sufficed for Rose, and, contrary as it may be to all modern 
theory, she was somewhat the better for it; while the mate and Jack 
Tier quite halt emptied the bottle, being none the worse. There 
they sat, enjoying the security and abundance which had succeeded 
to their late danger, happy in that security, happy in themselves, 
and happy in the prospects of a bright future. It was just as prac- 
ticable tor them to remain at the Dry Tortugas, as it was tor the 
family which ordinarily dwelt at the iisrlit. The place was amply 
supplied with everything that would be necessary for their wants, 
for months to come, and Harry caused his betrothed to blush, as he 
whispered to her, should the chaplain arrive, he should delight in 
passing the honeymoon where they then were. 

“1 could tend the light,” he added, smiling, “which would be 
not only an occupation, but a useful occupation; you could read all 
those books Irom beginning to end, and Jack could keep us supplied 
with fish. By the way, master steward, are you in the humor for 
motion, so soon alter your hearty meal?” 

” Anything to be useful,” answered Jack., cheerfully. 

“Then do me the favor to go up into the lantern of the light- 
house, and take a look for the sloop-of-war. If she s in sight at all, 
you’ll find her off here to the northward; and while you are aloft 
you may as well make a sweep of the whole horizon. There 
hangs the light-house-keeper’s glass, which may help your eyes, by 
stepping into the gallery outside of the lantern.” 

Jack willingly compiied, taking the glass and proceeding forth- 
with to the other building. Multord had two objects in view in 
giving this commission to the stew^ard. He really wished to ascertain 
what was the chance ol seeing the “ Poughkeepsie,” in the neigh- 
borhood of the islets, and felt just that indisposition to move him- 
self, that is apt to come over one who has recently made a very 
bountiful meaU while he also desired to have another private conver 
sation with Rose. 

A good portion of the time that- Jack was gone, and he stayed 
quite an hour in the lantern, our lovers conversed as lovers are 
much inclined to converse; that is to say, of themselves, their feel- 
ings, and their prospects. Multord told Rose of his hopes and fears, 
while he visited at the house of her aunt, previously to sailinji, and 
the manner in which his suspicions had been first awakened in ref- 
erence to the intentions of Spike — intentions, so far as they were 
connected with an admiration of his old commander’s niece, and 
possibly in connection also with the little fortune she was known to 
possess, but not in reference to the bold project to which he had, in 
fact, resorted. IMo distrust of the scheme finally put in practice had 
ever crossed the mind of the young mate, until he received the un- 
expected olfler, mentioned in our opening chapter, to prepare the 
brig' for the reception of Mrs. Budd and her part}’. Harry confessed 
his jealousy of one youth whom he dreaded far more even than he 
bad ever dreaded Spike, and whose apparent favor with Rose, and 
actual favor with her aunt, had given him many a sleepless night. 

8 


226 


JACK TIER. 


They next conversed of the future, which to them seemed full of 
tlovveis. Various were the projects started, discussed, and dis- 
missed, between them— the lust almost as soon as proposed. On one 
thino- they were of a mind, as soon as proposed, Harry was to have 
a ship as quick as one could be purchased ))y Rose’s meaus, and the 
promised biide laughiiiirly consented to make one voyage to Europe 
along with her husband. 

1 wonder, dear Rose, my poverty has never presented any diffi- 
culties in the way of our union,” said Harry, sensibly touched with 
the free way his betrothed disposed of her own money in his behalf; 
” but neither you nor Mrs. Budd has ever seemed to think of the 
difference there is between us in this respect.” 

“ What is the trifle 1 possess, Harry, set in the balance against 
your w^orth? My aunt, as you say, has thought 1 might even be the 
gainer by the exchange.” 

‘‘I am sure 1 feel a thousand times indebted to Mrs. Budd—” 

"Aunt Budd. You must learn to say, ‘ wy Aunt Budd,’ Mr. 
Henry Mulford, if you mean to live in peace with her unworthy 
niece.” 

” Budd, then,” returned Harr}'-, laughing, for the laugh 
came easily that evening; ‘‘Aunt Budd, if you wish it. Rose. 1 
can have no objection to call any relative of yours uncle or aunt.” 

‘‘ 1 think we are intimate enough, now, to ask you a question or 
two, Harry, touching my aunt,” continued Rose, looking stealthily 
over her shoulder, as if apprehensive of being overheaid. ‘‘ You 
know how fond she is of speaking of the sea and of indulging in 
nautical phrases?” 

“ Any one must have observed that, Rose,” answered the young 
man, gazing up at the wall, in order not to be compelled to look the 
beautiful creature before him in the eyes— ‘‘Mrs. Budd has very 
strong tastes that way.” 

‘‘Kow tell me, Harry — that is, answer me frankly — 1 mean — she is 
r\o\ always ngh-i, is she?” 

‘‘ Why, no; not absolutely so — that is not absolutely always so — 
few persons are always right, you know.” 

Rose remained silent and embarrassed for a moment, after which 
she pursued the discourse. 

“ But aunty does not know as much of the sea and of ships as she 
thinks she does!” 

‘‘ Perhaps not. We all overrate our own acquirements. 1 dare 
say that even 1 am not as good a seaman as 1 fancy myself to be.” 

•‘ Even Spike admits that you are what he calls ‘ a prime seaman.’ 
But it is not easy for a woman to get a correct knowledge of the use 
of all the strange, and sometimes uncouth, terms that you sailors use.” 

” Certainly not, and for that reason 1 would rather you should 
never attempt it. Rose. We rough sons of the ocean would prefer 
to hear our wives make divers pretty blunders, rather than to be 
swaggering about like so many ‘ old salts.’ ” 

‘‘ Mr. Mulford! Does Aunt Budd swagger like an old salt?” 

“ Dearest Rose, 1 was not thinking of your aunt, but oi you. Of 
you, as you are, feminine, spirited, "lovely alike in form and char- 
acter, and of you a graduate of the ocean, and full of its language 
and ideas.” 


JACK TIER. 


227 


It was probable Rose was not displeased at this allusion to berselt, 
for a sDjile struggled around her pretty mouth, and jslie did not look 
at all angry. After another short pause, she resumed the discourse. 

“ My aunt did not very clearly comprehend those explanations of 
yours about the time of day, and the longitude,” she said, ” nor am 1 
quite certain that 1 did myself.” 

“ You understand them far better than Mrs. Budd, Rose. 
Women are so little accustomed to think on such subjects at all that 
it is not surprising Ihey sometimes get confused. 1 do wish, how- 
ever, that your aunt could be persuaded to be more cautious in the 
presence of strangers,, on the subject of terms she does not under- 
stand.” 

“ 1 feared it might be so, Harry,” answered Rose, in a low voice, 
as it unwilling even he should know the full extent of her thoughts 
on this subject; ” but my aunt’s heart is most excellent, though 
she may make mistakes occasionally. I owe her a great deal, if not 
absolutely my edueation, ccriainly my health and comfort through 
childhood, and moie prudent, womanly advice than you may sup- 
pose, perhans, since 1 have left school. How she became the dupe 
of Spike, indeed, is to me unaccountable; tor in all that relates to 
health she is, in general, both acute and skillful.” 

” Spike is a man of more art than he appears tn be to superficial 
observers. On my first acquaintance with him 1 mistook him for a 
frank, fearless, but w^ell-meaning sailor, who loved hazardous voy- 
ages and desperate speculation—- a sort of innocent gambler; but I 
have learned to know better. His means are pretty much reduced 
to his brig, and she is getting old, and can do but little more 
service. His projects are plain enough, now. By getting you into 
his power, he hoped to compel a marriage, in which case both your 
fortune and your aunt’s would contribute to repair his.” 

“ He might have^ killed me, but I never would tave married 
him,” rejoined Rose, ^irull 3 ^ ” Is not that Jack coming- down the 
steps of the ligat-house?” 

‘‘It is. 1 find that fellow’s attachment to Spike very extraor- 
dinary, Rose. Can you, in any manner, account for it?” 

Rose at first seemed disposed to reply. Her lips parted, as if 
about to speak, and closed ajiain, as, glancing her eyes toward the 
open door, she seemed to expect the appearance of the steward’s 
little rotund form on its threshold, which held her tongue tied. A 
brief interval elapsed, however, ere' Jack actually arrived, and 
Rose, perceiving that Harry was curiously expecting her answer, 
said hurriedly — ” It may be hatred, not attachment.” 

The next instant Jack Tier entered the room. He had been gone 
rather more tlian an hour, not returning until just as the sun was 
about to set in a flame of fire. 

” Well, Jack, what news from the ‘ Poughkeepsie ’?” demanded 
the male. ” Y'ou have been gone long enough to make sure of your 
eriand. It is certain that we are not to see the man-of war’s-men 
to night.” 

” Whatever you see, my advice to you is to keep close, and to be 
on 3 mur guard,” answered Jack, evasively. 

“ I have little fear of any of Uncle Sam’s craft. A plain story 
and an honest heart will mtike all clear to. a well disposed listener. 


JACK TIEK. 


228 

We liave not been accomplices in Spike’s treasons, and can not be 
made to answer for them. ’ ’ 

“ Take my advice, maty, and be in no hurry to hail every vessel 
you see. Uncle Sam’s fellows may not always be at hand to help 
you. Do you not koow that this island will be tabooed to seamen 
lor some time to come?” 

“Why so, Jauk? The islet has done no harm, though others 
may have performed wicked deeds near it.” 

“Two of the drowned men lie within a hundred yards -of this 
spot, and sailors never go near new-made graves, it they can find 
any other place to resort to.” 

‘ You deal in enigmas. Jack: and did 1 not know that you are 
very temperate, 1 might suspect that the time you have been gone 
has been passed in the company of a bottle of brandy.’' 

“ That will explain my meanin’,” said Jack, laconically, pointing 
as be spoke seemingly at some object that was. to be seen without. 

The door of ihe house was wide open, and for the admission of 
air. It faced the haven of the islers, and just as the mate’s eyes 
were turned to it the end of a flying-jib-boom, with the sail down, 
and fluttering beneath it, was coming into the view. “ The 
‘Poughkeepsie’!” exclaimed Mulford, in delight, seeing all his 
hopes realized, while Rose blushed to the eyes. A pause succeeded, 
during which Mulford drew aside, keeping his betrothed in the 
background, and as much out of sight as possible. The vessel was 
shooting swiftly into view, and presently all there could see it was 
the “Swash.” 


CHAPTER Xll. 

But uo— he surely is not dreaming. 

Another minute makes it clear, 

A scream, a rush, a burning tear. 

From Inez’ cheek, dispel the fear 
That bliss like his is only seeming. 

Washington Alston. 

A MOMENT of appalled surprise suceeded the instant when Harry 
and Rose first ascertained the real character of the vessel that had 
entered the haven of the Dry Tortugas. Then the first turned 
toward Jack Tier, and sternly demanded an explanation of his ap- 
parent faithlessness. 

“ Rascal,” he cried, “ has this treachery been intended? Did you 
not see the brig and know her? ’ 

“ Hush, l\'AXYy—dear Harry,” exclaimed Rose, entreatingly. 
“ My life for it. Jack has not been faithless.” 

“ Why, then, has he not let us know that the brig was coming? 
For more than an hour has he been aloft, on the lookout, and here 
are we taken quite by surprise. Rely on it, Rose, he has seen the 
approach of the brig, and might have sooner put us on our guard.” 

“ Ay, ay, lay it on, maty,” said Jack, coolly, neither angry nor 
mortified, so far as appearances went, at these expressions of dis- 
satisfaction; “ my back is used to it. If 1 didn’t know what it is 
to get hard raps on tlie knuckles, 1 should be but a young steward. 
But, as for this business, a little reflection will tell you 1 am not to 
blame,” ^ 


JACK TIER. 




229 


‘‘ Give us your own explanations, for without them 1 shall trust 
you no longer.” 

” Well, sir, what good would it have done, had I tol-d you the 
brig was standing for this place? There site came down, like a 
race-horse, and escape for you was impossible. As the wind is now 
blowin^ the ‘ Molly ’ would go two feet to the boat’s one, and a 
chase would have been madness.” 

” 1 don’t know that, sirrah,” answered the mate. “ The -boat 
might have got into the smaller passages of the reef, where the brig 
could not enter, or she might have dodged about among these islets, 
until it was night, and then escaped in the, darkness.” 

” 1 thought of all that, Mr. Mulford, but it came too late. When 
1 first went aloft 1 came out on the north west side of the lantern, 
and took my seat, to look out lor the sloop-of-war, as you bade me, 
sir. Web, there 1 was, sweepin’ the horizon with the glass for the 
better part of an hour, sometimes fancyin’ I saw her, and then 
givin’ it up; for to this moment I am not sartain there isn’t a sail 
off here to the westward, turning up toward the light on a bowline; 
but if there be she’s too far oft to know anything partic’lar about 
her. Well, sir, there 1 sat, looking for the ‘ Poughkeepsie,’ for the 
better part of an hour, when 1 thought I would go round on t’other 
side of the lantern and take a look to windward. My heart was in 
my mouth, 1 can tell you. Miss Rose, when I saw the brig; and 1 
felt both glad and sorry. Glad on my own account, and sorry on 
3 'our’n. There she was, however, and no help for it, within two 
miles of this very spot, and coming down as if she despised touch- 
ing the water at all. Now, what could 1 do? There wasn’t time, 
Mr. Mulford, to get the boat out, ana the mast stepped, afore we 
should have been within reach of canister, and Stephen Spike would 
not have spared that, in order to get you again within his power.” 

‘‘ Depend on it, Harry, this is all true,” said Rose, earnestly. ” 1 
know Jack well, and can answer for his fidelity. He wishes to, 
and if he can he will return to the brig, whither he thinks“his duty 
calls him, but he will never willingly betray least of all, me. 
Do 1 speak as 1 ougnt. Jack?” ' 

*■ Gospel truth. Miss Rose, and Mr. Mulford will get over this 
squall, as soon as he comes to think of matters as he ought. There’s 
my hand, maty, to show 1 bear no malice.” 

“ 1 take it, Jack, for I must believe you honest, after all you have 
done for us. Excuse my warmth, which, it a little unreasonable, 
was somewhat natural under the circumstances. 1 suppose our 
case is now hopeless, and that we shall all be soon on board the brig 
again; for Spike will hardly think of abandoning me again on an 
island provisioned and fitted as is this!” 

“It’s not so sartain, sir, that you fall into his hands at all,” put 
in Jack. “ ’The men of the brig will never come here of their own 
accord, depend on that, for sailors don’t like graves. Spike has 
come in here a’ter the schooner’s chain, that he dropped into the 
water when he made sail from the sloop-of-war, at the time he was 
here afore, and is not expectin’ to find us here. No— no— he thinks 
we are heatin’ up toward Key West this very minute, if, indeed, he 
has missed us at all. ’Tis possible he believes the boat has got 


JACK TIER. 


230 

adrift by accident, and has no thought of our bein’ out of the 
brig.” 

” That is impossible, Jack. Do you suppose he is ignorant that 
liose is missing?” • 

” Sartain ot it, maty, if Mrs. Budd lias read the letter well that 
Miss Rose left for her, and Biddy has obeyed orders. If they’ve 
followed instructions, Miss Rose is thought to be in her state-room, 
mournin’ for a young man who was abandoned on a naked rock; 
and Jack Tier, havin’ eat somethin’ that has disagreed with him, is 
in his berth. Recollect, Spike will not be apt to look into Miss 
Rose’s state-room or my berth, to see if all this is true. The cook 
and Josh are both in my secret, and know 1 mean to come back, 
and when the fit is over 1 have only to return to duty, like any other 
hand. It is m.Y calculation that Spike believes both Miss Rose and 
myself on board the ‘ Molly ’ at this very moment.” 

” And the boat— what can he suppose has become of the boat?” 

” Saitainly, the boat makes the only chance ag’in us. But the 
boat was ridin’ by its painter astarn, and accidents sometimes hap- 
pen to such craft. Then we two are the wery last he will suspect 
of havin’ made off. in tlio boat by ourselves. There’ll be Mrs. Budd 
and Biddy as a sort of pledge that Miss Rose is aboard, and as for 
Jack Tier, he is too insignificant to occupy the captain’s thoughts 
just now. lie will probably musler the people for’ard, when he 
finds the boat is gone, hut 1 do not think he’ll trouble the cabins or 
state-rooms.” 

Mulford admitted that this possMe, though it scarcely seemed 
probable, to him There was no help, however, for the actual state 
of things, and they all now turned their attention to the brig, and 
to the movements of those on board her. Jack Tier had swung-to 
the outer door of the house as soon as the ” Swash ” came in view 
througli it, and fortunately none of the windows on that side of the 
building bad been opened at all. The air entered to windward, 
wdiich was on the rear of the dw'^elling, so that it was possible to be 
comfortable, and yet leave the front, m view from the vessel, wdth 
its deserted air. As for the brig, slie had already anchored and got 
both her boats into the water. The was hauled alongside, in 
readiness for any service that might be required of it, wdiile the 
launch had been manned at once, and was already weighing the 
anchor, and securing the chain to which Tier had alluded. All this 
served very much to le.sseii the uneasiness of Mulford and Rose, as 
it went far to prove that Spike nad not come to the Dry Tortugas 
in quest of them, as, at first, both had very naturally supposed. It 
might, indeed, turn out that his sole object was" to obtain this 
anchor and chain, with a view to use them in raising the ill-fated 
vessel that had now twice gone to the bottom. 

“1 wish an explanation with 5 mu, Jack, on one other point,” said 
the mate, after all three had been lor some time observing the move- 
ments on board and around the “ Swash.” “ Do you actually in- 
tend to get on board the brig?” 

It it’s to be done, maty. My v’y^ge is up with you and Miss 
Rose. I may be said to have sliipped for Key West aud a market, 
and the market’s found at this port.” 

” You- will hardly leave us 2/^?!,, Jack,” said Rose, with a manner 


JACK TIEK. 


231 


and ernpliasis that did not fHil to strike her betrothed lover, thou<j;h 
he could in no way account for cither. That Rose should not wish 
to be leit alone with him in that solitary place, was natural enough; 
or, might rather be referred to education and the peculiar notions 
of her sex; bin he could not understand why so much importance 
should be attached to the presence ot a being of Jack Tier’s mold 
and character. It was true, that there was little choice, under pres- 
ent circumstances, but it occurred to Multord that Rose had mani- 
fested the same strange predilection when there might have been 
something nearer to a selection. The moment, however, was not 
one for much reflection on the subject. 

“You will hardly leave us yet, Jack?’' said Rose, in the manner 
related. 

“ It’s now or never, Miss Rose. If the brig once gets away from 
this anchorage without me, 1 may never lay ej'^es on her ag’in. Her 
time is nearly up, for wood and iron won’t hold together always, 
any more than flesh and blood. Consider how many years I’ve 
been busy in huntin’ her up, and how hard ’twill be to lose that 
which has given me so many weary days and sleepless nights to 
find.’’ 

Rose said no more. If not convinced, she was evidently silenced, 
while Harry was left to wonder and surmise, as best he might. 
Roth quitted the subject, to watch the people of the brig. By this 
time the anchor had been lifted, and the chain was heaving in on 
board the vessel, by means of a line that had been got around its 
bight. The work went on rapidly, and Multord observed to Rose 
that he did not think it was the intention of Spike to remain long at 
the Tortugas, inasmuch as his brig was riding by a very short range 
ot cable. This opinion was confirmed, halt an hour later, when it 
was seen that the launch was hooked on and hoisted in again, as 
soon as the chain and anchor of the schooner were secured. 

Jack Tier watched every movement with palpable uneasiness. 
His apprehensions that Spike would obtain all he wanted, and be 
off before he could rejoin him, increased at each instant, and he did 
not scruple to announce an intention to take the boat and go along- 
side of the “ Swash ” at every hazard, rather than be left. 

“ You do not reflect on what you say. Jack,’’ answered Harry; 
“ unless, indeed, it be your intention to betray us. How could you 
appear in the boat, at this place, without letting it be known that 
we must be hard by?’’ 

“ That don't follow at all, maty,” answered Jack. “ Suppose 1 
go alongside the brig and own to the captain that 1 took the boat 
lust night, with the hope of findin’ you, and that failin’ to succeed, 
1 bore up lor this port, to look for provisions and water. Miss Rose 
he thinks on board at this moment, and in my judgment he would 
take me at my word, give me a good cursing, and think no more 
about it.” 

“It would never do. Jack,” interposed Rose, instantly. “It 
would cause the destruction of Harry, as Spike would not believe 
you had not found him, without an examination of this house.” 

“ What are they about with the yawl, Mr. Mulford?” asked 
Jack, whose eye was never oft the vessel for a single moment, 


232 


JACK TIEE. 


“ It’s gettin’ to be so dark that one can hardly see the boat, but it 
seems as if they’re about to man the yawl.” 

” They are, and there goes a lantern into it. And that is Hpike 
himself coming down the brig’s side this instant. ” 

“ They can only bring a lantern to search this house,” exclaimed 
Rose. ” Oh! Harry, you are lost!” 

I rather think tlie lantern is tor the light-house,” answered Mul- 
foi'd, whose coolness, at what was certainly a most trying moment, 
did not desert him. ” Spike may wish lo keep the light burning, 
for, once before, j’^ou will remember, he had it kindled after the 
keeper -was removed. As lor his sailing, he would not be apt to sail 
until the moon rises; and in beating back to the wreck, the light 
may serve to let him know the bearings and position ot the reet, ” 

” There they come',” whispered Rose, half breathless with alarm. 
” The boat has left the brig, and is coming directly hither!” 

All this was true enough. The yawl had shoved off, and with 
two men to row it, was pulling for the wharf in front of the house, 
and among the timbers of w'hich lay the boat, pretty well concealed 
beneath a sort of bridge. IVTulford would not retreat, though he 
looked to the fastenings of the door as a means of increasing his 
chances of defense. In the stern sheets of the boat sat two men, 
though it was not easy to ascertain who they were by the fading 
light. One was known to be Spike, how^ever, and the other, it was 
conjectured, must be Don Juan Montefalderon, from the circum- 
stance ot his being in the place of honor. Three minutes solved 
this question, the boat reaching the wharf by that time. It was in- 
stantly secured, and all four ot the men left it Spike was now 
plainly to be discerned by means of the lantern which he carried in 
his own hands, tie gave some orders, in his customary authorita- 
tive way, and in a high key, after which he led the way from the 
wharf, walking side % side with the Senor Montefalderon. These 
tw "0 last came within a yard ot the door of the house, where they 
paused, enabling those within not only to see their persons and the 
working of their countenances, but to hear all that was said; this 
last the more especially, since Spike never thought it necessary to 
keep his powerful voice within moderate limits. 

” It’s hardly worth while, Don Wan, for you to go into the light- 
house,” said Spike. ” ’Tis but agreasy dirty place at the best, and 
one’s clothes are never the better for dealin’ with ile. Here, Bill, 
take the lantern, and get a filled can, that we may go up and trim 
and fill the lamp, and make a blaze. Bear a hand, lads, and I’ll be 
a’ter ye afore you reach the lantern. Be careful with the flame 
about the ile, for seamen ought never to wish to see a light-house 
destroyed.’' 

” What do you expect to gain by lighting the lamps above, Don 
Esteban?” demanded the Mexican, when the sailors had disappeared 
in th(5 light-house, taking tlieir own lantern with them. i, 

‘‘ It’s wisest to keep "things rcg’lar about this spot, Don Wan, 
which will prevent tinnecessary suspicions. But, as the brig 
stretches in toward the reet to-night, on our way back, the light 
will be a great assistance. 1 am short ot officers, you know, and 
want all the help of this sort 1 can get.” 

” To be sincere with you, Don Esteban, 1 greatly regret you are 


JACK TIER. 


23d 

so short of officers, and do not yet despair of inducing you to go 
and take off the mate, whom I hear you have left on' a barren rock. 
He was a tine young fellow, Senor Spike, and the deed was not one 
that you will wish to remember a few years hence.” 

“ The fellow run, and 1 took him at his word, Don Wan. I’m 
not obliged to receive back a deserter unless it suits me.” 

‘‘We are all obliged to see we do not cause a fellow-creature the 
loss of life. This" will prove the death of the charming young 
woman who is so much attached to him, unless you relent and are 
merciful!” 

‘‘ Women have tender looks, but tough hearts,” answered Spike, 
carelessly, though Mulford felt certain, by the tone of his voice, 
that great bitterness of feeling lay smothered beneath the affected 
indifference of his manner; “ lew die of love.” 

“ The young lady has not been on deck all day, and the Irish 
woman tells me that she does nothing but drink water — the certain 
proof of a high fever.” 

“ Ay, ay, she keeps her room if you will, Don Wan, but she is 
not about to make a dupe ol me by any such tricks. 1 must go 
and look to the lamps,, however, and you will find the graves you 
seek in the rear ot this house, about thirty yards behind it, you’ll 
remember. That’s a very pretty cross you’ve made, senor, and the 
skipper of the schooner’s soul will be all the better for settin’ it up 
at the head ot his, grave.” 

“It will serve to let those who come after us know that a Chris- 
tian sleeps beneath the sand, Don Esteban,” answered the Mexican, 
mildly. “ 1 have no other expectation from this sacred symbol.” 

The two now separated, Spike going into the light-house, little in 
a hurry, while Don Juan Montefalderon walked round the building 
to its rear, in quest ot the grace. Mulford waited a moment for 
trfpike to get a short distance up the stairs of the high tower he had 
to ascend, when placing the arm of Rose within his own, he opened 
the door in the rear of the house, and walked boldly toward the 
Mexican. Don J uan was actually forcing the pointed end ot his 
little cross into the sand, at the head of his countryman’s grave, 
when Mulford and his trembling companion reached the spot. 
Although night had shut in, it was not so dark that persons could not 
be recognized at small distances. The Senor Montefalderon was 
startled at an apparition so sudden and unexpected, when Mulford 
saluted him by name*; but recognizing first the voice of Harry, and 
then the persons of himself and his companion, surprise, rather than 
alarm, became the emotion that was uppermost. Notwithstanding 
the strength of the first of these feelings, he instantly saluted the 
young couple with the polished ease that marked his manner, which 
had much of the courtesy of a Castilian in it, tempered a little, per- 
haps, by the greater flexibility ot a Southern American. 

“Isee you,” exclaimed Don Juan, “ and must believe my eyes. 
Without their evidence, however, 1 could scarce believe it can be 
you two, one ot whom I thought was on board the brig,[and the other 
suffering a most miserable death on a naked rock.” 

“ i am aware of your kind feelings in our behalf, Don Juan,” said 
Mulford, ” and it is the reason 1 now confide in you. 1 was taken 
off that rock by means of the boat which you doubtless have 


234 


JACK TIER. 


missed; and this is the gentle being who has been the means of sav- 
ing my life. To her and Jack Tier, who is yonder, under the 
shadows of the bouse, I owe my not being the victim of Spike’s 
cruelty.” ^ 

“ I now comprehend the whole matter, Don Henrique/. Jack 
Tier has managed the boat for the sehorita; and those whom we 
were told were too ill to be seen on deck, have been really out of the 
brig!” 

” Such are the facts, senor, and from you there is no wish to con- 
ceal them. We are then to understand that the absence of Rose 
and Jack from the brig is not known to Spike?” 

” 1 believe not, sefior. He has alluded to both, once or twice 
to day, as being ill below; but would you not do well to retire 
within the shade of the dwelling, lest a glance from the lantern 
might let those in it know that 1 am not alone?” 

” There is little danger, Don Juan, as they who stand near a light 
can not well see those who are in the darkness. Besides, they are 
high in the air while we are on the ground, which wu‘11 greatly add 
to the obscurity down here. We can retire, nevertheless, as 1 have 
a few questions to ask, which may as well be put in perfect secur- 
ity, as piit where there is any risk.” 

The three now drew near the house, Rose actual!}'- stepping 
within its door, though Harry remained on its exterior, in order to 
watch the proceedings of those in the light-house. Here the Senor 
Montefalderon entered into a more detailed explanation of what had 
occurred on board the brig, since the appearance of day, that very 
morning. According to his account of the matter. Spike had im- 
mediately called upon the people to explain the loss of the boat. 
Tier was not interrogated on this occasion, it being understood he 
had gone below and turned in, after having the lookout for fully 
half the night. As no one could, or would give an account of the 
manner in which the boat was missing. Josh was ordered to go be- 
low and question Jack on the subject. Whether it was from con- 
sciousness of his connection with the escape of Jack, and apprehen- 
sions of the consequences, or from innate good-nature and a desire 
to 'befriend the lovers, this black now admitted that Jack confessed 
to him that thd boat had got away from him wliilo endeavoring to 
shift the turns of* its painter from a cleet where they ought not to 
be_io their proper place. This occurred early in Jack’s watch, 
according to Josh’s story, and had not been reported, as the boat 
did not properly belong to the brig, iind was an incumbrance rather 
than an advantage. The mate admired the negro’s cunning, as 
Don Juan related this part of his story, which put him in a situa- 
tion to throw all the blame on Jack’s mendacity in the event of a 
discovery, whilc.it had the eidect to allow the fugitives more time 
for their escape. The result was, that Spike bestowed a lew hearty 
curses, as usual, on the clumsiness of Jack Tier, and seemed to for- 
get all about the matter. It is probable he connected Jack’s ab- 
staining from showing himself on deck, and his alleged indisposi- 
tion, with his supposed deliquency in this matter of the boat. From 
that moment the*captain appeared to give himself no further con- 
cern on the subject, the boat having been, in truth, an incumbrance 
rather than a benefit, as stated. 


JACK TIKR. 


235 

As for Rose, her keeping her room, under the circumstances, 
was so very natural, that the Senor Montefalderon had been com^ 
pletely deceived, as, from his tranquillity on this point, there was 
no question was the case with Spike also. Biddy appeared on deck 
though the widow did not, and the Irishwoman shook her head 
anxiously when questioned about her young mistress, giving the 
spectators reason to suppose that the latter was in a very bad way. 

As respects the brig and her movements, Spike had got under 
way as soon as there was light enough to find his course, and had 
run through the passage. It is probable that the boat was seen; 
lor something that was taken for a small sail had just been made 
out for a single instant, and then became lost again. This little sail 
was made, it made at all, in the direction ot the Dry Tortugas, but 
so completely was all suspicion at rest in the minds of those on the 
quarter-deck of the “ Swash,” that neither Spike nor the Mexican 
had the least idea what it was. When the circumstance was re- 
ported to the former, he answered tliat it was probably some small 
wrecker, ot which many were hovering about the reef, and added, 
laughingly, though in a way to prove how little he thought se- 
riously on the subject at all, ‘‘ who knows but the light-house boat 
has fallen into their hands, and that they've made sail on her ; if 
they have, my word tor it, that she goes, hull, spai>, rigging, can- 
vas, and cargo, all in a lump, for salvage.” 

As the brig came out of the passage, in broad day, the heads of 
the- schooner’s masts w'ere seen, as a matter of course. This induced 
fipike to heave to, lower a boat, acd to go in person to examine the 
condition of the wreck. It will be seen that Jack’s presence could 
now be all the better dispensed with. The examination, with the 
soundings, and other calculations connected with raising the ves- 
sel, occupied hours. When they were completed. Spike returned 
on board, ran up his boat, and squared awqy for the Dry Tortu- 
gas. Senor Montefalderon confirmed the justice of Jack Tier’s 
surmises, as to the object of this unexpected visit. The brig had 
come solel3'' tor the chain and anchor mentioned, and, having secured 
them, it was Spike’s^ intention to get under way and beat up to the 
wreck again as soon ?s the moon rose. As for the sloop-of-war, 
he believed she had uiven him up; for by this time she must know 
that she had no chance with the brig, so long as the latter kept 
near the reef, and that she rah the constant hazard of shipwreck, 
wliile playing so near the clangers herself. 

Before the Senor Montefalderon exhausted all he had to commu- 
nicate he was interrupted by Jack Tier with a singular proposi- 
tion. Jack’s great desire was to get on board tlie “Swash;” and 
he now begged the Mexican to let Miiltord lake the yawl and scull 
him oft to the brig, and return to the islet before Spike and his com- 
panions should descend from the lantern ot the light- house. The lit- 
tle fellow insisted there was sutficient time for such a purpose, as 
the three in the lantern had not yet succeeded in filling the lamps 
with the oil necessary to their burning for a night — a duty that 
usually occupied the regular keeper tor an hour. Five or six min- 
utes would suffice for him; and if he were seen going up the brig’s 
side, it would be easy tor him to maiutain that he had come ashore 
in the boat. No one took such precise note of what was going on, 


JACK TIER. 


236 


as to be able to contradict bim; and as to Spike and the men with 
him, they would probably never hear any thing about it. 

Don Juan Mon tefalderon was struck with the boldness of Jack 
Tier’s plan, but refused his assent to it. He deemed il too hazard- 
ous, but substituted a project ot his own. The moon would not 
rise until near eleven, and it wanted several hours before the time of 
sailing. When they returned to the brig, he would procure his 
cloak, and scull hinrself ashore, being perfectly used to managing a 
boat in this way, under the pretense of wishing to pass an hour 
longer near the grave of his countryman. At the expiration of that 
hour he would take Jack off, concealed beneath his cloak— -an ex- 
ploit of no great difficulty in the darkness, especially as no one 
would be on deck but a hand or two keeping the anchor-w'atch. 
With Ihis’arrangement, therefore, Jack Tier was obliged to be con- 
tent. 

Some fifteen or twenty minutes more passed, during which the 
Mexican again alluded to his country, and his regrets at her de- 
plorable situation. The battles of the 8th 'and 9th of May, two 
cotnbars that ought to and which wdll reflect high honor on the lit- 
tle array that won them, as well as on that hardly worked, and in 
some respects hardly used, service to which- they Delong, had been 
just fought. I3on Juan mentioned these events without reserve, 
arid frankly admitted that success had fallen to the portion of 
much the v’caker party. He ascribed the victory to the great su- 
periority of the American officers of inferior rank; it being well 
known that in the service of the “ Republic of the North,” as he 
termed America, men who had been regularly educated at the mili- 
tary academy, and wffio had reached the period of middle life, were 
serving in the stations of captains, and sometimes in that of lieu- 
tenants; men who, in many cases, were fitted to command regi- 
ments and brigades, having been kept in these lower stations by 
the tardiness with which promotion comes in an army like that of 
this country. 

Don Joan Montefalderon was not sufficiently conversant with the 
subject perhaps, else he might have added, that when occasions do 
offer to bestow on these gentlemen the preferment they have so 
hardly and patiently earned, they are too often neglected, in order 
to extend the circle of vulgar political patronage. He did not know 
that, when a new regiment of dragoons was raised, one permanent 
in its character, and intended to be identified with the army in all 
future time, instead of giving its commissions to those who had 
fairly earned them by long privations and faithful service, they were 
given, with one or two exceptions, to strangers. 

No government trifles more with its army and navy than our own. 
So niggardly are the master spirits at Washington of the honors 
justly earned by military men, that w'e have fleets still commanded 
by captains, and armies by officers whose regular dut}^ it would be 
to command brigades. The world is edified with (he sight ot 
forces sufficient in numbers, and every other military requisite, to 
make one ot Napoleon’s corps d'armee, led by one whose com- 
mission would place him properly at the head oi a brigade, and 
nobl}^ led, too. Here, when so favorable an occasion offers to add 
a regiment or two to the old permanent line of the army, and thus 


JACK TIER. 


237 

infuse new life into its hope deferred, the opportunity is overlooker?, 
and the rank and file are to be obtained by cramminir, instead of bv 
a generous regard to the interests of the gallant gentlemen who 
have done so much for the honor of the American name, and un- 
happily, so little for themselves. The extra patriots of the nation, 
and they form a legion large enough to trample the “ Halls of the 
Monlezumas ’ under their feet, tell us that the reward of those 
other patriots beneath the shadows of the Sierra Madre is to be in 
the love and approbation of their fellow-citizens at the very moment 
then they are giving the palpable proof of the value of this esteem 
and of the inconsistency of popular applause, by pointing their 
fingers, on account of an inadvertent expression in a letter, at the 
gallant soldier who taught, in our own times, the troops of this 
country to stand up to the best appointed lagiments of England, 
and to carry off viefbry from the pride of Europe, in fair field- 
fights. Alas! alas! it is true of nations as well as of men, in their 
sim])]est arid earliest forms of association that there are “ secrets 
in all families;” and it will no more do to dwell on our own, than it 
would edify us to expose those of poor Mexico. 

The discourse between the Senor Montefalderon and Mulford 
was interesting, as it ever has been when the former spoke of Ids 
unfortunate country. On the subject of the battles of May, he was 
candid, and admitted his d^ep mortification and regrets. He had 
expected more from the force collected on the llio Grande, though, 
understanding the Northern character better than most of his coun- 
trymen, he had not been as much taken by surprise as the gn at bulk 
of his own nation. 

“Nevertheless, Don Henrique,” he concluded, for the voice of 
Spike was just then heard as he was descending the stairs of the 
light-house, “nevertheless, Don Henrique, there is one thing that 
your people, brave, energetic, and powerful as 1 aclnowledge them 
to be, would do well to remember, and it is this; no nation of the 
numbers of ours can be, or ever was, conquered, unless by the force 
of political combinations. In a certain state of society a govern- 
ment may be overturned, or a capital taken, and carry a whole 
country along with it, but our condition is one not likely to bring 
about such a result. We are of a race different from the Anglo- 
Saxon, and it will not be easy either to assimilate us to your own, 
or wholly to subdue us. In those parts of the country where the 
population is small, in time, no doubt, the Spanish race might be ab- 
sorbed, and your sway established; but ages of war would be nec- 
essary entirely to obliterate our usages, our language, and our re- 
ligion from the peopled portions of Mexico.” 

It might be well for some among us to reflect on these matters; 
the opinions of Don Juan, in our judgment, being entitled to the 
consideration of all prudent and considerate men. 

As Spike descended to the d< or of the light-house, Harry, Rose, 
and Jack Tier retired within that of the dwelling. Presently the 
voice of the captain was heard hailing the Mexican, and together 
they walked to the wharf, the former boasting to the latter of his . 
success in making a brilliant light. Brilliant it wasf indeed; so brill- 
liant as to give Mulford many misgivings on the subject of the 
boat. The light from the lantern fell upon the wharf, and he could 


238 JACK TIER. 

the boat from the window where he stood, W'ith Spike standing 
nearly over it, waiting tor the men to get his own yawl ready. It 
is true, the captain’s back was to ward, the dangerous object, and 
tlie planks ot the bridge were partly between him and it; but there 
was a serious danger that was solely averted by the circumstance 
that Spike was so earnestly dilating on some subject to Don Juan, 
as to look only at that gentleman’s face. A minute later they were 
all in the yawl, which pulled rapidly toward the brig. 

Don Juan MontefaUleron w'as not long absent. Ten minutes 
sufficed for the boat to reach the “ Swash, ’^ for him to obtain his 
cloak, and to return to the islet alone, no one in the vessel feeling 
a desire to interfere with his imaginary prayers. As for the people, 
it was not probable that one in the brig could have been induced 
to accompany him to the graves at that hour; though everybody but 
Josh lad turned in, as he informed Multord, to catch short naps 
previously to the hour of getting the brig under way. As for the 
steward, he had been placed on the lookout as the greatest idler 
on board. All this was exceedingly favorable to Jack Tier’s proj- 
ect, since Josh was already in the secret of his absence, and would 
not be likely to betray his return. After a brief consultation, it 
was agreed to wait half an hour, in order to let the sleepers lose 
all consciousness, when Don Juan proposed returning to the vessel 
with his new companion. 

The thirty or forty minutes that succeeded were passed in general 
conversation. On this occasion the 8enor Montefalderon spoke more 
freely than he had yet done ot recent events. He let it be plainly 
seen how much he despised Spike, and how irksome to him was the 
inter course he was obliged to maintain, and to which he only sub- 
mitted through a sense of duty. The money known to be in the 
schooner was of a larger amount than had been supposed; and 
every dollar was so important to Mexico, at that moment, that he 
did not like to abandon it, else, did he declare, that he \vould quit 
the brig at once, and share in the fortunes of Hairy and Hose. He 
courteously expressed his best wishes for the happiness of the young 
couple, and delicately intimated that, under the circumstances, he 
supposed that they would be united as soon as they could reach a 
place where the marriage rite could be celebrated. This was said 
in the most judicious way possible; so delicately as not to wound 
any one’s feelings, and in a way to cause it to resemble the au- 
nouncement ot an expectation, rather than the piece of paternal 
advice for which it was really intended. Harry was delighted with 
this suggestion ot his Mexican friend — the most loyal American 
may still have a sincere friend of Mexican birth and Mexican feel- 
ings, too— since it favored not only his secret wishes, but his secret 
expectations also. 

At the appointed moment, Don Juan Montefalderon and Jack 
Tier took their lean^e of the two they left behind them. Rose mani- 
fested what to Harry seemed a strange reluctance to part with the 
little steward; but Tier was bent on profiling by this excellent op- 
portunity to get back to the brig. They went, accordingly, and the 
anxious listener s, who .watched the slightest niovcjment of the yawl, 
froni the shore, had reason to believe that Jack was smuggled in 
without detection. They heard the familiar sound of the oar fall- 


JACK TIEK. 


239 


ing in the boat, and Mulford said that Josh’s voice might be dis- 
tinguished, answering to a call from Don Juan. N'o noise or clamor 
was heard, such as Spike would certainly have made, bad he de- 
tected the deception that had been practiced on himselt. 

Harry and Rose were now alone. The former suggested that the 
latter should take possession of one of the little bedrooms that are 
usually to be found in American dwellings of the dimensions and 
humble character of the light-house abode, while he kept watch un- 
til the brig should sail. Until Spike was fairly oft, he would not 
trust himselt to sleep; but there was no sufficient reason why Rose 
should not endeavor to repair the evil of a broken niaht’s rest, like 
that which had been passed in the boat. With this understanding, 
then, our heroine took possession of her little apartment, where she 
threw herself on the bed in her clothes, whHe Mulford walked out 
into the air, as the most eftective means of helping to keep his eyes 
open. 

ll was now some time past ten, and before eleven the moon would 
rise. Tlie mate consequently knew that his watch could not be 
long before Spike would quit the neighborhood— a ciicurastance 
pregnant with immense relief to him, at least. So long as that un- 
scrupulous, and now nearly desperate man, remained anywhere near 
Rose, he felt that sne could not be safe; and as lie paced the sands, 
on the off or outer side of the islet, in order to be beyond the influ- 
ence of the light in the lantern, his eye was scarcely a moment 
taken away from the " Swash,” so impatiently and anxiously did 
he wait for the signs of some movement on board her„ 

The moon rose, and Mulford heard the well known raps on the 
booby-hatch, which precedes the call of " all hands,” on board a 
merchantman. “ All hands up anchor, ahoyt” succeeded, and in 
less than five minutes the bustle on board the brig announced the 
fact, that her people wmre getting the anchor.” By this time it 
had got to be so light that the mate deemed it prudent to re- 
turn to the house, in order that he might conceal his person within 
its shadows. Awake Rose he would not, thougli he knew she would 
witness the departure of the“ Swash ’’with a satisfaction little short 
of his own. He thought he would wait, that when he did speak to 
her at all, it might be to announce their entire safety. As regarded 
the aunt, Rose was much relieved on her account, by the knowledge 
that Jack Tier would not fail to let Mrs. Budd know everything 
connected with her own situation and prospects. The desertion of 
Jack, after coming so far with her, had pained our heroine in a way 
we can not at present explain; but go he would, probably feeling 
assured there was no longer any necessity for his continuance with 
the lovers, in order to prevail on Rose to escape from Spike. 

The ” Swash ” was not long in getting her ground-tackle, and the 
brig was soon seen with her topsail aback, waiting to cat the anchor. 
This done, the yards swung round, and the topsail filled. It was 
blowing just a good breeze for such a craft to carry whole sail on a 
bowline with, and away the light and active craft started, like the 
racer that is galloping for daily exercise. Of course there Avere 
several passages by which a vessel might quit the group of islets, 
some being larger and some smaller, biit all having sufiicient water 
for a brigantine of the ‘‘ Molly’s ” draught. Determined not to lose an 


240 


JACK TIEK. 


inch of distance unnecessaril}", Spike luffed close up to the wind, 
making an effort to pass out to windward of the light. In order to 
do this, however, it became necessary for him to make two short 
tacks within the haven, which brought him far enough to the south- 
ward and eastward to effect his purpose. While this was doing, 
the mate, who perfectly understood the object of the maneuvers, 
passed to the side of the lighthouse that was opposite to that on 
which the dwelling w^as placed, wdth a view^ to get a betier sight 
of the vessel as she stood out to sea. In order to do this, however, it 
was necessary tor the young man to pass through a broad bit of moon- 
light: but he trusted for his not being seen to the active manner in 
wliicli all hands were employed on board the vessel. It would 
seem that in this respect, Mulford trusted without his hosts, for as 
the vessel drew near, he perceived that six or eight figures w^ere on 
the guns of the “ Swash,” or in her rigging, gesticulating eagerly, 
and seemingly pointing to the very spot where he stood. When 
the brig got^fairly abeam of the light, she would not be a hundred 
yards distant from it; and fearful to complete the exposure of his 
person, which he had so inadvertently and unexpectedly com- 
menced, our mate drew up close to the wall of the lighthouse, 
against which he sustained himself in a position as immovable as 
possible. This movement had been seen by a single seaman on 
board the “ Swash,” and the man happened to be one of those who 
had landed with Spike only two hours before. His name was Bar- 
low. 

” Captain Spike, sir,” cafied out Barlow, who was coiling up rig- 
ging on the forecastle, and was consetiuently obliged to call out so 
loud as to be heard by all on board, ” yonder is a man at the foot 
of the lighthouse.” 

By this time, the moon coming out bright through an opening in 
the clouds, Mulford had become conscious of the risk he ran, and 
was drawn up, as immovable as the pile itself, against the stones of 
the lighthouse. Such an aunohneement brought everybody to lee- 
ward, and every head over the bul walks. Spike himself sprung 
into the lee main-ebains, where his view was unobstiuced, anil where 
Mulford saw and recognized him, even better than he was seen and 
recognized in his own person. All this time the brig was moving 
ahead. 

” A man, Barlow!” exclaimed Spike, in the way one a little be- 
wildered by an announcement expresses his surprise. “A man! 
that can never be. There is no one at the liglithouse, you know.” 

” There he stands, sir, with his back to the tower, and his face 
this way. His dark figure against the whitewashed stones is plain 
enough to be seen, Living or dead, sir, that is the mate!” 

“ TAvinfj it can not be,” answered Spike, though ne gulped at the 
words the next moment. 

A general exclamation now showed that everybody recognized 
the mate, whose figuie, slature, dress, and even features, were by 
this time all tolerably distinct. The fixed attitude, however, the 
immovable statue-like rigidity of the form, and all the other known 
circumstances of Harry’s cas;*, united to produce a common and 
simultaneous impression among the superstitious mariners, that 
what they saw was but the ghostly shadow of one lately departed 


JACK TIEE. 


241 


to the world of spirits. Even Spike was not free from this illusion, 
and his knees shook beneath him, there where he stood, in the 
channels of a vessel that he had handled like a top in so many 
gales and tempests. With him, however, the illusion was neither 
absolute nor lasting, A second thought told him it could scarcely 
be so, and then he found his voice. By this time the brig was 
nearly abreast of where Harry stood. 

“ You, Josh!’’ cried out Spike, in avoice of thunder, loud enough 
to startle even Mrs. Budd and Biddy in their berths. 

“Lor’ help us all!” answered the negro, “ what come next 
t’ing aboard dis wessel! Here 1 be, sir.’’ 

“ Pass the fowling-piece out of my state-room. Both barrels arc 
loaded with ball; I'll try him, though the bullets are only lead.’’ 

A common exclamation ot dissatisfaction escaped the men, while 
Josh was obeying the older. “It’s no use.” “You never can 
hurt one of them things.” “ Something will befall the brig on ac- 
count of this,” and “It’s the mate’s sperit, and sperits can’t be 
harmed by lead or iron,” were the sort of remarks made by the sea- 
men, during the short interval between the issuing the order for the 
fowling-piece and its execution. 

“ There ’tis, Cap’in Spike,” said Josh, passing the piece up 
though the rigging; “ but 'twill no more shoot that thing than one 
of our carronades w'ould blow up Gibraltar.” • 

By this time Spike was ve(i'y determined, his lips being compressed 
and his teeth set; he took the gun and cocked it. Then he hailed. 
As all that passed occurred, as it might be, at once, the brig even 
at that moment was little more than abreast of the immovable 
mate, and about eighty yards from him. 

“Lighthouse, there!” cried Spike— “ Living or dead, answer, 
or 1 lire.” 

No answer came, and no motion appeared in the dark figure that 
was now very plainly visible, under a bright moon, drawn in high 
relief against the glittering white ot the tower. Spike diopped the 
mu/zle to its aim, and filed. 

So intense was the attention of rdl in the “ Swash,” that a wink of 
Hany’s could almost have been seen, had he betrayed even that 
slight sign of human infirmity at the flash and the report. The ball 
was flattened against a stone of the building, within a foot of the 
mate’s body; but he did not stir. All depended now on his perfect 
immovability, as he well Knew; and he so fai* commauaed himself, 
as to'remain rigid as if of stone himself. 

“ There! one can see how it is— no life in that being,” said one. 
“I.know’d how it would end,” added another. “Nothing but 
silver, and that cast on purpose, will ever lay it,” continued a thiid. 
But Spike disregarded ail. This time he was resolved that his aim 
should be better, and he was inveterately deliberate in getting it. 
Just as he pulled the trigger, however, Don Juan Moiitefalderon 
touched his elbow, the piece was fired, and there stood the im- 
movable figure as before, fixed against the tower. Spike w-as turn- 
ing angrily to chide his Mexican friend for deranging his aim, 
when the report of an answering musket came back like an echo. 
Every eye was turned toward the figure, but it moved not. Then 
the humming sound of an advancing ball was heard, and a bullet 


242 


JACK TIER. 


passed, whistling hoarsely through the rigging, and fell some dis- 
tance to windward. Every head disappeared below the bulwarks. 
Even Spike was so far astonished as to spring in upon deck, and for 
a single instant, not a man was to be seen above the monkey-rail of 
the brig. Then Spike recovered himself, and jumped .upon a gun. 
His first, look was toward the light-house, now on the vessel’s lee- 
quarter; but I he spot where had so lately been seen the form of Miil- 
ford, showed nothing but the glittering brightness of the w^hite- 
w ashed stones! 

The reader will not be surprised to learn that all these events pro- 
duced a strange and deep impression on board the “ Molly Swash.” 
1'he few who might have thrown a little light on the matter were 
discreetly silent, while all tliat portion of the crew which was in the 
dark, firmly believed that the spirit of the murdered mate was visit- 
ing them, in order to avenge the wrongs inflicted on it in the flesh. 
The superstition of sailors is as deep as it is general. All those of 
the “ Mo]l3q” too, were salts of the old school, sea-dogs of a past 
generation, properly speaking, and mariners who had got tlieir 
notions in the early pari of the centurjq when the spirit of progress 
was less active than it is at present. 

Spike himself might have had other misgivings, and believed that 
he had seen the living form of his intended victim, but for the ex- 
traordinary and 'ghost-like echo of his last discharge. There was 
nothing visible, or intelligible, from which that fire could have 
come, and he was perfectly bewildered by the whole occurrence. 
An intention to round-to, as soon as through the passage, down boat 
and land, which had been promptly conceived when he found that 
his first aim had failed, was as suddenly abandoned, and he gave 
the command to ” board fore-tack;” immediately after, his call was 
to ” pack on the brig,” and not without a little tremor in his voice, 
as soon as he perceived that the figure had vanished. The crew was 
not slow to obey these orders, and in ten minutes the “ Swash ” 
was a mile from the light, standing to the northward and eastward, 
under a press of canvas, and with a freshening breeze. 

To return to the islets. Harry, from the first, had seen that every- 
thing depended on his remaining motionless. As the people of the 
l)rig were partly in shadow', he could not, atod did not. fully under- 
stand how completely he was himseli exposed, in consequence of 
the brightness of all around him, and he had at first hoped to be 
mistaken for some accidental resemblance to a man. His nerves 
Avere well tried by the use of the fowling piece, but they proved 
<'qual to the necessities of the occasion. But, when an answering 
report came from the rear, or from the opposite side of the islet, he 
darted round tlie tower, as nmch taken by surprise, and overcome 
by wonder, as any one else 'ivho heard it. It Was this rapid move- 
ment which caused his flight to be unnoticed, all the men ot the brig 
dodging below their ow n bulw'arks at that precise instant. 

As the light house was now'l)etween the mate and the brig, he had 
no longer any motive for trying to conceal himself. Ilis first tlioiight 
was of Rose, and, strange as it ma}' seem, for some little time he 
fancied that she had found a musket in the dw’elling, and dis- 
chaiged it, in order to aid his escape. The events had passed sf> 
swiftly, that there was no time for the cool consideration of any- 


JACK TIER. M‘d 

tliinp:, and it is not surprising that some extravagances mingled with 
the first surmises of all these. 

On reaching the door nf the house, therefore, Harry was by no 
means surprised at seeing Rose standing in it, gazing at the swiltly 
receding brigantine. He even looked for the musket, expecting to 
see it lying at her feet, or leaning against the wadi of the building,. 
Rose, how'ever, w'as entirely unarmed, and as dependent on him tor 
support, as when he bad parted from her, an hour or two before. 

Where did you find that musket, Rose, and w^hat have you done 
wdth it?” inquired Harry, as soon as he had looked in every place he 
thought likel}’^ to hold such an implement. 

“Musket, Harry! I have had no musket, though the report of 
lire-arms, near by, awmke me from a sweet sleep.” 

“ Is this possible! 1 had imprudently trusted myself on the other 
side of the light-house, while the moon was behind clouds, and 
when they bridge suddenly aw'ay, its light betrayed me to those on 
board the brig. Spike bred at me twice, without injuring me; 
when, to my astonishment, an answering report w^as heard from the 
islet. What is more, the piece was charged with a ball-cartridge, 
lor 1 heard the whistling of the bullet as it passed on its way to the 
brig.” 

“ And you supposed I had fired that niusket?” 

“ Who else could 1 supRose had done it? You are not a very 
likely person to do such a thing, I will own, my love; but them are 
none but us two here.” 

“ It must be Jack Tier,” exclaimed Rose, suddenly. 

“ That is impossible, since he has left us.” 

“ One never knows. Jack understood how anxious 1 was to re- 
tain him with us, and he is so capricious and full of schemes, that 
be nuiy have contrived to get out of the brig as artfully as he got 
on board her.” 

“If Jack Tier be actually on this islet, 1 shall set him down as 
little else than a conjuror. ” 

“ Hist!” interrupted Rose, “ what noise is that in the direction of 
the wharf? It sounds like an oar falling in a boat.” 

JVlulfoid heard that well known sound, as well as his companion, 
and, followed by Rose, be passed swiftly through tlie bouse, coming 
out at the front, next the wdiarf. The moon was still shining blight, 
and the mystery of the echoing report, and answering shot, was im- 
mediately explained. A large boat, one that pulled ten oars, at 
leasT was just comiiiir up to the end of the wharf, and the miinuer 
in which its oars were unshipped and tossed announced t(> the 
maie that the crew were man of-war’s men. He walked hastily toi-- 
ward to meet them. 

Three officers first left the boat together. The gold biinds of their 
caps showed that they belonged to the quarter-deck, a fact that the 
light of the moon made apparent at once, though it was not strong- 
enough to render features distinct. As Mulford continued to ad- 
vance, however, the three officers saluted him. 

“ 1 see you have got the light under way once more,” oliservcd 
the leader of the party. “ Last night it was as dark as Erebus iu 
ymui lantern.” 

“ The light.-house keeper and liis assistant have both beeu 


JACK TIKR. 


244 

drowned/’ answered Mulford. “ The lamps have been lit to-night 
by the people of the brig which has just gone out,” 

” Pray, sir, what brig may that be?” 

‘‘The ‘Molly Swash,’ of New York; a craft that 1 lately be- 
longed to myself, but which 1 have left on account of her evil do- 
ings. ” 

” The ‘ Molly Swash,’ Stephen Spike master and owner, bound 
to Key West and a market, with a cargo of eight hundred barrels 
of flour, and that of a quality so lively and pungent that it explodes 
like gunpowder! 1 beg your pardon, Mr, Mate, for not recogniz- 
ing you sooner. Have you forgotten the ‘ Poughkeepsie,’ paptain 
Mull, and her far-reaching Paixhans?” 

”1 ought to ask your pardon, Mr. Wallace, for not recognizing 
you sooner, too. But one does not distinguish well by moonlight. 
1 am delighted to see you, sir, and now hope that, with my assist- 
ance, a stop can be put to the career of the brig.” 

“What, Mr. Mate, ^oyou turn against 3 ^our craft?” said Wal- 
lace, under the impulsive feeling which induces all loyal men to 
have a distate for treachery of every sort. “ The seaman should love 
the vety planks of his vessel.” 

“ 1 fuUy understand you, Mr. Wallace, and will own that, for a 
long lime, I was tied to rascality by the opinions to which you 
allude. But, when you come to hear my explanation, 1 do not fear 
your judgment in the least.” 

Mulford now led the way into the house, wh.ither 'Rose had al- 
ready retreated, and where she had lighted candles, and made other 
womanly arrangements for receiving her guests. At Harry’s sug- 
gestion, some of the soup was placed over coals, to warm up for the 
party, and our heroine made her preparations to comfort them also 
with a cup of tea. While she was thus employed, Mulford gave 
the whole history of his connection with the brig, his indisposition 
to quit the latter, the full exposure of Spike’s treason, his own deser- 
tion, if desertion it could be called, the loss of the schooner, and his 
abandonment on the rock, and the manner in which he had been 
finally relieved. It was scarcely possible to relate all these matters, 
and altogether avoid allusions to the schemes of Spike in connection 
with Rose, and the relation in which our young man himself stood 
toward her. Although Mulford touched on these points with great 
delicacy, it was as a seaman talking to seamen, gnd he could not en- 
tirely throw aside the frankness of the profession. Ashore, men live 
in the privacy of their own domestic circles, and their secrets, and 
secret thoughts, are “ family secrets,” of which it has passed into a 
proverb to say, that there are always some, even in the best of these 
communities. On shipboard, or in the camp, it is very different. 
The close contact in which men are brought with each other, the 
necessity that exists for opening the heart and expanding the chari- 
ties, gets in time to influence the whole character, and a certain de- 
gree of frankness and simplicity takes the place of the reserve and 
acting that might have been quickened in the same individual, 
under a different system of schooling. But Mulford was frank by 
nature, as well as by his. sea-education, and his companions on this 
occasion were pretty well possessed of all his wishes and plans, in 
reference to Rose, even to his hope of falling in with the cliaplain 




JACK TIER. 


245 

of the “ Poughkeepsie,” hy the time his story was all tohj. The 
fact that Rose tvas occupied iu another room, most ot the time, had 
made these explanations all the easier, and spared her many a blush. 
As tor the man-of-war’s men, they listened to the tale, with manly 
interest and a generous sympathy, 

“ 1 am glad to hear your explanation, Mr, Mate,” said Wallace, 
cordially, as soon as Harry had done, “ and there’s my hand, in 
proof that 1 approve of your course. I own to a radical dislike of 
a turncoat, or a traitor to his craft. Brother Hollins ’’—looking at 
tlie elder of his two companions, one of whom was the midshipman 
who had originally accompanied him on board the “ -Swash ’’—and 
am glad- to find that our friend Mulford here is neither. A true- 
hearted sailor can be excused for deserting even his own ship, under 
such circumstances.” 

“I am glad to hear even this little concession from you, Wal- 
lace,” answered Hollins, good-naturedly, and speaking with a mild 
expression of benevolence, on a very calm and thoughtful counte- 
nance. ” 1 our mess is as heterodox as any 1 ever sailed with, on the 
subiect of our duties, in this respect.” 

” 1 hold it to be a sailor’s duty to stick by his ship, remrend and 
dear sir.” 

This mode of address, which was used by the “ ship’s gentle- 
man ” in the cant of the ward-room, as a pleasantry of an old ship 
matej for the two had long sailed together in other vessels, at once 
announced to Harry that he saw the very chaplain for whose pres- 
ence he had been so anxiously wishing. The reverend and dear 
sir ” smiled at the sally of his friend, a sort of thing to which he 
was very well accustoau-u, but he answered with a gravity and point 
that, it is to be presumed, he thought befitting his holy office. 

It may be well to remark here, that the Rev Mr Hollins w^as not 
one of the ” launch’d chaplains,” that used to do discredit to the 
navy of his country, or a layman dubbed with such a title, and 
rated that he might get the pay and become a boon companion of 
the captain, at the table and in his frolics ashore. Those days are 
gone by, and ministers of the Gospel are now really employed to 
care for the souls of the poor sailors, who so long have been treated 
by others, and have treated themselves indeed, as if they were 
beings without souls, altogether. In these particulars, the world 
lias certainly advanced, though ihe wise and the good, in looking 
around them, nay feel more cause for astonishment in coniemplat- 
mg what it ouce was, than to rejoice in what it actually is. But in- 
tellect has certainly improved in the aggregate, if not in its especial 
dispensations, and men will not now submit to abuses that, within 
the recollections of a generation, they even cherished. In reference 
to the more intellectual appointments of a ship of war, the com- 
mander excepted, for we contend he who directs all, ought to pos- 
sess the most capacity, but, in reference to what are ordinarily be- 
lieved to be the more intellectual appomtinents of a vessel of war, 
the surgeon and the chaplain, we well recollect opinions that were 
expressed to us, many years since, by two officers of the highest 
rank known to the service. “ When ! first entered the navy,” sakl 
one of these old Benbows, ” if 1 had occasion for the amputation of 
a leg, and the question lay between the carpenter and the doctor, 


246 


JACK TIEK. 


d e, but I would have tried the carpenter first, for 1 lelt pfetty 

certain he would have been the most likely to get through with the 
job,.” “ In old times,” said the other, ” when a chaplain joined a 
ship, the c[ueslion immediately arose, whethei the mess were to con 
vert the chaplain^ or the chaplain the mess; and the mess generally 
got tlie best of it.” niiere was very little cKaggeration in either ol 
these opinions. But, happily, all this is changed vastly for the bet- 
ter, and a navy -surgeon is riecessarily a man of education and ex- 
perience; in very many instances, men of high talents are to be found 
among them; while chaplains can do something belter than play at 
backgammon, eat terrapins, when in what may be called terrapin- 
ports, and drink brandy and water, or pure Bob Smith.* 

” It is a great mistake, Wallace, to fancy that the highest duty a 
man owes, is either to his ship or to his country,” observed the 
Bev. Mr. Hollins, quietly. ” The highest duly of each and all of 
us, is to God; and whatever conflicts with that duty, must be avoid- 
ed as a transgressions of his laws, and consequently as sin.” 

‘‘ Aou surprise me, reverend and dear sir! 1 do not remember 
ever to have heard you broach such opinions before, which might 
be interpreted to mean that a fellow might be disloyal to his flag.” 

” Because the opinion might be liable to misinterpietalion. {Still, 
I do not go as far as many oi my friends on this subject. If De- 
catur ever really said, ‘ Our country, right or wrong,’ he said what 
might be just enough, and creditable enough, in certain cases, and 
taken with the fair limitations that he probably intended should ac- 
company the sentiment; but, if he meant it as an absolute and con- 
trolling principle, it was not possible to be more in error. In this 
last sense, such a rule of conduct might, and in old ttmes often 
would, have justified idolatry; na}^ it is a species of idolatry iii 
itself, since it is putting country before God. Sailors may not 
always be able to make the just distinctions in these cases, but the 
quarter-deck should be so, 2 rreverend and dear sir.” 

Wallace laughed, aud then he turned the discourse to the subject 
more properly before tliem. 

” 1 understand you to say, j\lr. Mulford,” he remarked, “that, 
iu jmur opinion; the ‘ Swash ’ has gone to try to raise the uufortu- 
nate Mexican schooner^ a second time, from the depths of the 
ocean?” 

“ From the rock on which she lies. Under the circumstances, I 
hard!}'’ thiuk he would have come hither for the chain and cable, 
unless with sonm such object. We know, moreover, that such was 
his intention wlieu lie left the brig.” 

“ And you can take us to the very spot where that wreck lies?” 

“ Without any diflQculty. Hei masts are partly out of water, and 
we. hung on to them, in a boat, no later than last night, or this 
morning rather.” 

“So far, well. Your conduct in all this affair will be duly ap«. 
preciated, and Captain Mull will not fail to represent it in a right 
point of view to the government.” 

“ Where is the ship, sir? 1 looked for her most anxiously with- 

* In the palmy days of the service, when Robert Smith was so long Secretary 
ot the Navy, the ship’s whisky went by tins familial- sobriquet. 


JACK TIER. 


247 

out success, last evening; nor had Jack Tier, the little fellow 1 have 
named to you, any better lucld| though 1 sent him aloft, as high as 
the lantern in the light-house, tor that purpose.” 

“ Tlie ship is off nere to the northward and westward, some six 
leagues or so. At sunset she may have been a little further. We 
have supposed that the ‘ Swash ’ would be coming back hither, and 
had laid a trap for her, which came very near taking ber alive.” 

” What is the trap you mean, sir?— though taking Stephen Spike 
alive, is sooner said than done.” 

“ Our plan has been to catch him with our boats. With the 
greater draught ol water of the ‘ Poughkeepsie ’ and the heels of 
your brig, sir, a regular chase about these reefs, as w^e knew from 
experience, would be almost hopeless. It was therefore necessary 
to use head work and some man-ot war traverses in order to lay 
liold ot him. Yesteraa}’^ afternoon we hoisted out three cutters, 
manned them, and made sail in them, all under our luggs, working 
up against the trades. Each boat took its owm course, one going 
off the west end of the reef, one going more to the eastward, while 
1 came this way, to look in at the Dry Tortugas , Spike will be 
lucky if he do not fall in with our third cutter^ "which is under the 
fourth lieutenant, should he stand on far on the same tuck as that 
on which he left this place Let him try his fortune, however. As 
for our boat, as soon as 1 saw the lamps burning in the lantern. 1 
made the best of my way hither, and got sight of the brig, just as 
she loosened her sails Then I took Ib my own luggs, and came on 
with the oars Had wp continued under oiir canvas, with this 
breeze, 1 almost think we might have overhauled the rascal ” 

It would have been impossible, sir The moment he got a sight 
of .your sails, he would have been off in a contrary direction, and 
that brig really seems to fly, wlienever there is a pressing occasion 
for her to move. You did the wisest thing you could have done, 
and barely missed him, as it was. He has not seen jmu at all, as it 
is, and wiU'be all the less on his guard, against the next visit from 
the ship 

‘• Hot seen me! Why, sir, the fellow fired at us twice wuth a 
musket; why he did not use a carronade, is more than 1 can tell.” 

“Excuse me, Mr. Wallace; those two shots were intended for 
me, though 1 now fully comprehend why you answered them,” 

“ Answ'ered them! yes, indeed; wdio would not answer such a 
.salute, and gun for gun, it he had a chance? 1 certainly thought 
he w’^as firing at us, and having a musket between my legs, 1 let fly 
in ret urn, and even the chaplain here will allow that was returning 
‘ good for evil,’ But explain your meaning.” 

Mulford now wentinto the details of the incidents connected with 
his coming into the moonlight, at the foot of the light-house. That 
he was not mistaken as to the party for wliom the shots were in- 
tended, was plain enough to him, from the words tliat passed aloud 
among the people of the “ Swash,” as well as trom the circumstance 
that both balls struck the stones of the tower quite near him. This 
statement explained every thing to Wallace, who now fully com- 
prehended the cause and motive of each incident. 

It was now near eleven, and Bose had prepared the table for sup- 
per. The gentlemen of the “ Poughkeepsie ” manifested great in- 


JACK TIER. 


248 

terest in the movements of the Hebe-like little attendant who was 
caring tor their wants. When the cloth was to be laid, the mid- 
shioman ofiered his assistance, but his superior directed him to send 
a hand or two up from the wharf, where the crew of the cutter were 
lounging or sleeping after their cruise. These men had been 
thought of, too; and a vessel filled with smoking soup was taken to 
them, by one of their own number. 

I'he supper was as cheertul as it was excellent. The dry humor 
of Wallace, the mild intelligence of the chaplain, the good sense of 
Harry, and the spirited information of Rose, contributed, each in 
its particular way, to make the meal memorable in more senses than 
one. The laugh came easily at that table, and it was twelve o’clock 
before the party thought of breaking up. 

The dispositions for the night were soon made. Rose returned to 
her little room, where she could now sleep ii.i comfort, and without 
apprehension. The gentlemen made the best disposition of their 
persons that circumstances allowed; each finding something on 
which to repose, that was preferable to a plank. As for the men, 
they were accustomed to hard fare, and enjoyed their present good- 
luck, to the top of their bent. It was quite late before they had 
done “ spinning their yarns,” and ” cracking their jokes,” around 
the pot of turtle-soup, and the can of grog that succeeded it. By 
half past twelve, however, everybody was asleep. 

Mulford was the first person afoot the following morning. He 
left the house just as the sun rose, and perceiving that the * ‘ coast 
was clear ” of sharks, he threw off his light attire, and plunged 
into the sea. Refreshed with this indulgence, he was returning 
toward the building, when he met the chaplain coming in quest of 
him. This gentleman, a man of real piety, and of great discretion, 
liad been singularly struck, on the preceding night, with the narra- 
tive of our young mate; and he had not failed to note the allusions, 
slight as they were, and delicately put as they had been, to himself. 
He saw, at once, the propriety of marrying a couple so situated, and 
now sought Harry, with a view to bring about so desirable an event, 
by intimating his entire willingness to officiate. It is scarcely nec- 
essary to say that very few words were wanting, to persuade the 
young man to fall into his views; and as to Rose, he had handed 
her a short note on the same subject, which he was of opinion Mmuld 
be likely to bring her to the same way of thinking. 

An hour later, all the ofiicers, Harry and Rose, were assembled in 
what might be termed the light-house parlor. The Rev. Mr. Hol- 
lins had neither band, gown, nor surplice; but he had what was. far 
better, feeling and piety. Without a prayer-book be never moved; 
and he read the marriage ceremony with a solemnity that was com- 
municated to all present. Jhe ring was that which had been uscil 
at the marriage of Rose’s parents, and which she wore habitually, 
though not on the left hand. In a word, Harry and Rose were as 
firmly and legally united, on that solitary and almost unknovru 
islet, as could have been the case, had they stood up before the 
altar of mother Trinity itself, with a bishop to officiate, and a legion 
of attendants. After the compliments which succeeded the cere- 
mony, the whole party sat down to breakfast. 

If the supper had been agreeable, the morning meal was not less 


JACK TIER, 


249 


SO. Hose was timid and blushing, as became a bride, though she 
could not but feel how much more respectable her position became 
under the protection of Harry as his wife, than it had been while 
she was only his betrothed. The most delicate deportment, on the 
part of her companions, soon relieved her embarrassment, however, 
and the breakfast passed off without cause for an unhappy moment. 

“ The ship’s standing in toward the li2:ht, sir,” reported the eox 
swain of the cutter, as the party was still lingering around the 
table, as if unwilling to bring so pleasant a meal to a close. ” Since 
the mist has broke away, we see her, sir, even to her ports and 
dead eyes.” 

“In that case, Sam, she can’t be very far off,” answered Wal- 
lace. ” Ay, there goes a gun from her, at this moment, as much 
as to say, ‘ What has become of all of my boats?’ Run down and 
let off a musket; perhaps she will make out to hear that, as we 
must be rather to windward, if anything.” 

The signal was given and understood. A quarter of an hour 
later, the “Poughkeepsie” began to shorten sail. Then Wallace 
stationed himself in the cutter, in the center of one of the passages, 
signaling the ship to come on. Ten minutes later still, the noble 
craft came into the haven, passing the still burning light, with her 
topsails just lifting; and making a graceful sweep under very re- 
duced sail, she came to ^ the wind, very near the spot where the 
’ Swash ” had lain only ten hours before, and dropped an anchor. 


CHAPTER Xm. 

The gull han found her place on shore; 

The sun gone down again to rest; 

And all is still but ocean’s roar; 

There stands the man unbless’d. 

But see, he moves— he tm-ns, as asking where 
His mates? Why looks he with that piteous stare? 

Dana. 

Superstition would seem to be a consequence of a state of be- 
ing, in which so much is shadow'ed forth, while so little is accurate- 
ly "known. Our far-reaching thoughts range over the vast fields ot 
created things, without penetrating to the secret cause ot the exisl- 
ence of even a blade of grass. We can analyze all substances that 
are brought into our crucibles, tell their combinations and tend- 
encies, give a scientific history of their formation, so far as it, is con- 
nected with secondary facts, their pioperties, and their uses; but in 
each and all, there is a latent natural cause, that batfies all our in- 
quiries, and tells us that we are merely men. This is just as true 
in morals, as in physics— no man living being equal to attainins: the 
very faith that is necessary to his salvation, without the special aid 
of the Spirit of the Godhead; and even with that mighty support, 
trusting implicitly for all that is connected with a future that we 
are taught to believe is eternal, to “ the substance of things hoped 
tor, and the evidence of things unseen.'’ In a word, this earthly 
probation of ours was intended for finite beings, in the sense ot our 
present existence, leaving far more to be conjectured than is under- 
stood. 


25U 


JACK TIER. 


Ignorance and superstition ever bear a close, and even a mathe- 
matical, relation to each other. Tiie degrees ot the one are regulated 
by the degrees ot ihe other. He who knows the least believes the 
most; while he who has seen the most, without the intelligence to 
comprehend tliat which he has seen, feels, perhaps, the strongest in- 
clination to refer those things, which to him' are mysteries, to the 
supernatural and marvelous. Sailors have been, from lime imme- 
morial, more disposed than men of their class on the land, to in- 
dulge in this weakness, which is probably heightened by the cir- 
cumstance of their living constantly and vividly in the presence of 
powers that menace equally their lives and their means, without be- 
ing in any manner subject to iheir control. 

Spike, for a seaman of his degree of education, was not particu- 
larly addicted to the weakness to which we have just alluded. 
Nevertheless, he was not altogether free from it; and recent circum- 
stances contributed to dispose him so much the more to admit a 
feeling W!hich, like sin itself, is ever the most apt to insinuate itself 
at moments ot extraordinary moral imbecility, and through the 
openings left by previous transgression. As his brig stood off from 
the light, the captain paced the deck, greatly disturbed by what 
had just passed, and unable to account for it. The boat of the 
“ Poughkeepsie ” was entirely concealed by the islet, and there ex- 
isting no obvious motive for wishing to return, in order to come at 
the truth, not a thought to that effect, for one moment, crossed the 
mind of the smuggler. So far from this, indeed, were his wishes, 
that the “ Molly ” did not seem to him to go half as fast as usual, 
in his keen desire to get further and further from a spot where such 
strange incidents had occurred. 

As for the men forward, no argument was wanting to make them 
believe that something supernatural had just passed before their 
eyes. It was known to them all, tliat Multord had been left on a 
naked rock, some thirty miles from that spot; and it was not easy 
to understand how he could now be at the Dry Tortugas, planted, as 
it might be, on purpose to show himself to the brig, against the 
tower, in the bright moonlight, “ like a pictur’ hung up tor his old 
shipmates to look at.” 

Somber were the tales that were related that night among them, 
many of which related to the sufferings of men abandonetl on desert 
islands; and all of which bordered, more or less, on the supernatural. 
The crew connected the disappearance ot the boat with Mulford’s 
apparition, though the logical inference would have been, that the 
body which required planks to transport it, could scarcely i>e classed 
with anything ot the world ot spirits. The links in arguments, how- 
ever, are seldom respected by the illiterate and vulaar, who jum]-) 
to their conclusions in cases ot the marvelous, much as politicians 
find an expression of the. common mind in the prepared opinions of 
the few who speak for them, totally disregarding the dissenting si- 
lence of the million. While the men were first comparing their 
opinions on that wdiich, to them, seemed to be so extraordinary, the 
Seiior Montefalderon joined the captain in iiis walk, and dropped 
into a discourse touching the events which had attended their de- 
parture from the haven ot the I)ry Tortugas. 

In this conversation, Don Juan most admirably preserved his 


JACK TIEJl. 


251 


countenance, as well as his self-command, effectually preventing 
the suspicion oi any knowledge on his part that was not common to 
them both. 

“You did leave the port with the salutes observed,” the Mexican 
commenced, with the slightest accent of a foreigner, or just enough 
to show that he was not speaking in hig mollier-tongue; “ salutes 
paid and returned.” 

“ Do 3 '^ou call that saluting, Don Wan? To me, that infernal 
shot sounded more like an echo than anything else.” 

“ And to what do you ascribe it, Don Esteb^an?” 

“ 1 wish 1 could answer that question. Sometimes 1 begin to 
wish 1 had not left my male on that naked rock ” 

“ There is still lime to repair the last wrong; we shall go within 
a few miles of Uie place where the Senor Enrique was left, and 1 
CcUi take the yawl, with two men, and go in search of him, while 
you are at work on the wreck.” 

“ Do you believe it possible that he can be still there?” demanded 
Spike, looking suddenly and intently at his comp: nio i, while his 
mind was strangely agitated between hatred and (head, “ It he is 
there, who and what was he that we all saw so plainly at the fejot of 
the light-house?” 

“ How should he have left the rock? He was without food or 
vvater; and no man, in all his vigor, could swim this distance. .1. 
see no means of his getting here.” 

“ Unless some .wrecker or turtler fell in with him, and took him 
off. Ay, a 3 % Don A^^an, 1 left him that much of a chance, at least. 
No man can say 1 murdered my male.” 

“ 1 am not aware, Don Esteban, that any one lia& said so hard a 
thing of you. 8till, we have seen neither wrecker nor turtler since 
we have been here; and that lessens the excellent chance you left 
Don Enrique.” 

“ There is, ho occasion, sefior, to be so particular,” growled Spike, 
a little sullenly, in reply. “The chance,! say, was n good oug, 
when you consider how many of them devils of wreckers hang 
about these reefs. Let this brig only get fast on a rock, and they 
would turn up, like sharks, all around us, each with his maw open 
for salvage. But this is neither here nor there; what puzzles me, 
was what we saw at the light, halt an hour since, and the musket 
thai was fired back at us! 1 knoio that the figure at the foot of the 
tower did not fire, for my eye w^as on him from first to last, and he 
had no arms. Y’ou were on the island a good bit, and musi have 
known if the light-house keeper was there or not, Don Wan.” 

“ The light-house keeper was there, Don Esteban— but he was in 
\\\^ gram,'' 

“ Ay, ay, one, I know% was drowned, and buried with the rest of 
them; tlH're might, however, have been more than one. You saw 
none of the people that had gone to Key West in or about the house, 
Don Wan?” 

“None. If any persons iiave left the Tortugas to go to Key 
West, within a few days, not one of them has yet returned.” 

“So 1 supposed. No, it can be none of them. Then 1 saw his 
face as iilainly as ever I saw it by moonlight, from aft, for’ard. 


252 


J^ACK TIEK. 


What is your opinion about seeing the dead walk on the ’arth, Don 
Wan?” 

“ That 1 have never seen any such thing myself, Don Esteban, 
and consequently know nothing about it.” 

” So 1 supposed; I find it hard to believe it, I do. It may be a 
warning to keep us from coming any more to the Dry Tortugas; 
and 1 must say 1 have little heart for returning to this place, after 
all that has fell out liere. We can go to the wreck, fish up the 
doubloons, and he ofi for Yucatan. Once in one of your ports, 1 
make no question that the merits of the ‘ Molly’ will make them- 
selves understood, and that we shall soon agree on a price.” 

” What use could we put the brig to, Don Esteban, if we had her 
all ready for sea?” 

” That is a strange question to ask in time of war!* Give wiesuch 
a craft. as the ‘ Molly,’ with sixty or eighty men on board her, in a 
war like this, and her ’arnin’s should not fall short of half a million 
within a twelvemonth.” 

‘‘ Could we engage you to take charge of her, Don Esteban?” 

“ That would be ticklish work, Don Wan. But we can see. No 
one knows what he will do until he is tried. In tor a penny, in for 
a pound. A fellow never knows! Ha! ha! ha! Don Wan, we 
live in a strange world— yes, in a strange world.” 

” We live in strange times, Don Esteban, as the situation of my 
poor country proves. But let us talk this matter over a little more 
in confidence.” 

And they did thus discuss the subject. It was a singular specta- 
cle to see an honorable man, one full of zeal of the purest nature in 
behalf of his own country, sounding a traitor as to the terras on 
which he might be induced to do all the harm he could to those who 
claimed his allegiance. Such sights, however, are often seen; our 
own especial objects too frequently blinding us to the obligations 
that we owe morality, so far as not to be instrumental in eflectiug 
even what we conceive to be good, by questionable agencies. But 
the Sehor Montefalderon kept in view, principally, his desire to be 
useful to Mexico, blended a little too strongly, perhaps, with the 
wishes of a man who was born near the sun, to avenge his wrongs, 
real oi fancied. 

While this dialogue was going on between Spike and his passen- 
ger as they paced the quarter-deck, one quite as characteristic occurred 
in the galley, within twenty feet of them: Simon, the cook, and 
Josh, the steward, being the interlocutors. As they talked secrets, 
they conferred together with closed doors, though few were ever 
disposed to encounter the smoke, grease, and fumes of their narrow 
domains, unless called thither by hunger. 

“What you t’ink of dis matter. Josh?” demanded Simon, whose 
skull having the well-known density of his race, did not let internal 
ideas out, or external ideas in, as readily as most men’s. ‘‘ Our 
young mate icas at de light-house beyond all controversy; and how 
can he be den on dat rock ober yonder, too?” 

” Dat is imposserbul,” answered Josh; ” derefore 1 says it isn’t 
true. 1 surposes you know dat what is imposserbul isn’t (rue, Si- 
mon. Nobody can’t be out yonder and down here at de same time. 
Dat is imposserbul, Simon. ‘ But what 1 wants to intermate to you, 


JACK TIER. 


253 

will explain all dis difficulty; and it do show de raal superiority of 
a colored man over de white poperlation. Kow, you mark my 
words, cook, aud be full of admiration I Jack Tier came back 
along wid de Mexican gentle’em, in my anchor-watcn, dis very 
night! You see, in de fust place, ebbery t’ing come to pass in nig- 
ger’s watch.” 

Here the two dark-skinned worthies haw haw’d tb their heart’s 
content; laughing very much as a magistrate oi a minister of the 
Gospel might be fancied to laugh, the first time be saw a clown at 
a circus. The merriment of a negro will have its course, in spile of 
ghosts, or of anything else; and neither the cook nor the steward 
dreamed of putting in another syllable, until theii laugh was fairly 
and duly ended. Then the cook made his remarks. 

“ How Jack Tier cornin’ back explain der dillerculty. Josh?”’ 
asked Simon, 

” Didn’t Jack go away wid Miss Rose andde mate, in de boat dat 
got adrift, you know, in Jack’s watch on deck?” 

Here the negroes laughed again, their ima^nations happening to 
picture to each, at the same instant, the mystificiilion about the boat; 
Biddy having told Josh in confidence the manner in which the party 
had returned to the brig, while he and Simon were asleep; which 
fact the steward had already communicated to the cook. To these 
two beings, of an order in nature different from all around them, 
and of a simplicity and of habits that scarce placed them on a level 
with the intelligence of the humblest white man, all these circum- 
stances Jiad a sort of mysterious connection, out of which peeped 
much the most conspicuously to their faculties the absurdity of the 
captain’s imagining that a boat had got adrift, which had, in truth, 
been taken away by human hands. Accordingly, they laughed it 
out; and when they had done laughing, they returned again to the 
matter before them with renewed interest in the subject. 

” Well, how all dat explain dis differculty?” repeated Simon. 

” In dis w'erry manner, cook,” returned the steward, with a little 
dignity in his manner. “ Ebbery t’ing depend on understandin’, 1 
s’pose you know. If Mr. Mulford got taken off dat rock by Miss 
Rose and Jack Tier, wid de boat, and den dey comes here alto- 
gedder; and den Jack Tier, he get on board and tell Biddy all this 
matter, and den Biddy tell Josh, and den Josh tell de cook— what 
for you surprise, you black debbil, one bit?” 

” Dat all!” exclaimed Simon. 

” Dat just all— dat ebbery bit of it, don’t 1 say.” 

Here Simon burst into such a fit of loud laughter, that it induced 
Spike himself to shove aside the galley-door, and thrust his own 
frowning visage into the dark hole within, to inquire the cause. 

” What’s the meaning of this uproar?” demanded the captain, all 
the more excited because he felt that things had reached a pass that 
would not permit hitn to laugh himself. “ Do yim fancy yourself 
on the Hook, or at the Five Points?” 

The Hook and the Five Points are two pieces of tabooed territory, 
within the limits of the good town of Manhattan, that are getting to 
be renowned for their rascality and orgies. They probably want 
nothing but the proclamatiou of a governor in vindication of their 
principles, annexed to a pardon of some of their unfortunate €hil- 


254 


JACK TIER. 


dren, to render both classical. If we continue to make much further 
progress in political logic, and in the same direction as that in 
which we have already proceeded so tar, neither will probably long 
he in want of this illustration. Votes can be given by the virtuous 
citizens of the anti-rent districts, and votes contain the essence of all 
such principle§, as well as of their glorification. 

“ Do you fancy yourselves on the Hook, or at the Five Points?” 
demanded Spike, angrily. 

” Lor’, no, sir!” answered Simon, laughing at each pause with all 
his lieart. ‘‘ Only laughs a liitle at ghost— all, sir.” 

” Ijaugh at ghost? Is that a subject to laugh at? Have a care, 
you blach rascal, or he will visit you in your galley here, when you 
will least want to see him.” 

‘‘No care much for him, sir,” returned Simon, laughing away as 
hard as ever. ” Skli a ghost oughtn’t to shear little baby. ” 

” Such a ghost? And what do you know of this ghost more than 
any other?” 

” Well, I seed him, Cap’in Spike; and what a body sees, he is 
acquainted wid.” 

‘‘You saw an image that looked as much like Mr. Mulford, my 
late mate, as one timber-head in this brig is like another.” 

“Yes, sir, hedike enough— must say dat—^o wery like, couldn’t 
see any difference. ” 

As Simon concluded this remark, he burst out into another fit of 
laughter, in which Josh joined him, heart and soul as it might be. 
The uninitiated reader is not to imagine the laughter of those blacks 
to 1)6 very noisy, or to be raised on a sharp, high key. Tliey covM 
make the welkin ring, in sudden bursts ot merriment, on occasion; 
but, at a time like this, they rather caused their diversion to be de- 
vcolped by sounds that came trom the depths of their chests. A 
gleam of suspicion that these blacks were acquainted wdth some fact 
tliat it might be well for him to know, shot across the mind of 
&pike; but he Avas turned from further inquiry by a remark of Don 
Juan, who intimated that the mirth of such persons never had much 
meaning to it, expressing at the same time a desire to pursue the 
more important subject in which they were engaged. Admonishing 
the blacks to be more guarded in their manifestations of merriment, 
the captain closed the. door on them, and resumed his walk up and 
down the quarter-deck. As soon as left to themselves, the blacks 
broke out afresh, though in a w'^ay so guarded, as tc confine their 
mirth to the galley. 

“ Cap’in Spike t’iuk dai a ghost!” exclaimed Simon, with con- 
tempt. 

“ Guess if he see raal, he find ’e difference,” answered Josh. 
“ One look at raal sperit wort’ two at dis object.” 

.Simon’s eyes now opened like two saucers, and they gleamed, by 
the light ot ihe lamp IhcT^ had, like dark balls of condensed curiosity, 
blended with awe, on his companion. 

“ You ebber see him. Josh?” he asked, glancing over each shoul- 
der hurriedly, as it might be, to make sure that he could not see 
“ him ’’too. 

“ flow you t’irik 1 get so far down the AA^ale of life, Simon, and 
nebber see sich a t’ing? 1 seed free of the crew of the ‘ Maria 


JACK TIER, 


26 o 


Sheffioj^ton,’ that was drowned by deir boat’s capsizin’, when we 
lay at Gibraltar, jest as plain as I see you now. Then — ” 

Bui it is unnecessary lo repeat Josh’s experiences in this way, with 
which he cootinued to entertain and terrify Simon for the next half- 
hour, This is just the difference between ignorance and knowledge. 
While Spike liimself, and every man in his brig who belonged for- 
ward, had strong misgivings as to the earthly character of the lagure 
they had seen at the foot of the light-house, these negroes laughed at 
their delusion, because they happened to be in the secret of Mul- 
ford’s escape from the rock and of that of his actual presence at the 
Tortugas. When, -however, the same superstitious feeling was 
brought to bear on. circumstances that lay without the sphere of their 
exact information, they became just as dependent and helpless -as all 
around them; more so, indeed, inasmuch as their previous habits 
and opinions disposed them to a more profound credulity. 

It was midnight before any of the crew of the “ Swash ” sought 
their rest that night. The captain had to remind them that a day 
of extraordinary toil was before them, ere he could get one even to 
quit the deck; and when they did go below, it wjxs to continue to 
discuss the subject of what they had seen at the Dry Tortugas. It 
appeared to be the prevalent opinion among the people, that the late 
event foreboded evil to the “ Swash,” and long as most of ihese men 
had served in the brig, and much as they had become attached to 
her,. had she gone into port that night nearly every man forward 
would have run before morning. But fatigue and wonder, at 
length, produced their effect, and the vessel w^as silent as was usual 
at that hour. Spike himself lay down in his clothes, as he had done 
ever since Mulford had left him; and the brig continued to toss the 
spray from her bows, as she bore gallantly up against the trades, 
worldng her way to windwaid. The light was found to be of great 
service, as it indicated the position of the reef, though it gradually 
sunk in the western hoi izon, until, near morning, it fell entirely 
below it. 

At this hour Spike appeared on deck again, where, for the first 
time since their interview on the morning of Harry’s and Bose’s 
escape, he laid his eyes on Jack Tier. The little dumpling-loohing 
fellow was standing in the waist, with his arms folded sailor-fashion, 
as composedly as if nothing had occurred to render his meeting wdth 
the captain any way of a doubtful character. Spike approached 
near the person of the steward, whom he surveyed from head to 
foot, with a sort of contemptuous superiority, ere he spoke. 

“ So, Master Tier,” at length the captain commenced, “ you have 
deigned to turn out at last, h^ave you? I hope the day’s duty you've 
forgotten, will help to pay for the light-house boat that 1 understand 
you’ve lost me, also.” 

‘‘ What signifies a great clumsy boat, that the brig couldn’t hoist 
in nor tow,” answered Jack, coolly, turning short round at the 
same time, but not condescending to ” uncoil ” his arms as he did 
so, a mark of indifference that would probably have helped to 
mystify the captain, had he even actually suspected that anything 
was wrong beyond the supposed accident to the boat in question. 
” It you had ‘had the boat astarn. Captain Spike, an order would 


256 


JACK TIER. 


have been given to cut it adrift the first time the brig made sail on 
the wind,” 

” Nobody knows, Jack; that boat would have been very useful 
to us while at work about the wreck. You never even turned out 
this morning to let me know where that craft lay, as you promised 
to do, but left us to find it out by our wits.” 

‘‘There was no occasion for my telling you anything about it, 
sir, when the mastheads was to be seen above water. As soon as 1 
heard that them ’ere mastheads was out of water, 1 turned over 
and went to sleep upon it. A man can’t be on the doctor’s list and 
on duty at the same time.” 

Spike looked hard at the little steward, but he made rio further 
allusion to his being oft duty, or to his tailing to stand pilot to the 
brig as she came through the passage in quest of the schooner’s re- 
mains. The fact vvas, that he had discovered the mastheads him- 
self, just as he was on the point of ordering Jack to be called, hav- 
ing allowed him to remain in his berth to the last moment after his 
W’atch, according to a species of implied faith that is seldom disre- 
garded among seamen. Once busied on the wreck, Jack ^vas for- 
gotten, having little to do in common with any one on board, but 
that which the captain termed the ” women’s mess.” 

‘‘ Come aft, Jack,” resumed Spike, after a considerable pause, 
dining the whole of. which lie had stood regarding the little steward, 
as it studying his person, and through that his character. ” Come 
aft to the trunk; 1 wish to catechise you a bit.” 

” Catechise!” repeated Tier, in an undertone, as he followed the 
captain to the place mentioned. ” It’s a long time since I’ve done 
anything at that!'’ 

‘‘Ay,' come hither,” resumed Spike, seating himself at his ease 
on the trunk, while Jack stood near by, his arms still folded, and 
his rotund little form as immovable under the plunges that the live- 
ly brig made into the head-seas that she w'as obliged to meet, as if a 
timber head in the vessel itself. ” You keep your sea-legs well. 
Jack, short as they are.” 

‘‘No wonder for that. Captain Spike; for the last twenty years 
I’ve scarce passed a twelvemonth ashore; and what 1 did before 
that, no one can better tell than yourself, pnce we was ten good 
years shipmates.”- 

‘‘So you say. Jack, though 1 do not remem ber as well as 

you seem to remember me. Do you not make the time too long?” 

‘ Not a day, sir. Ten good and happy years did we sail together. 
Captain Spike; and all that time in this ver — ” 

‘‘ Hush— h-u-s-h, man, hush! There is no need of telling the 
‘ Molly's ' age to everybody. 1 may wish to sell her some day, and 
then her great experience will bp no recommendation. You should 
recollect that the ‘ Molly ’ is aTemale, and the ladies do not like to 
hear of their ages after flve-and-tw’enty.” 

Jack made no ansnrer, but he dropped his arms to their natural 
position, seeming to wait tire captain's communication, first referring 
to his tobacco-box and taking a fresh quid. 

‘‘ If you was with me in the brig. Jack, at the time you mention,” 
continued Spike, after another long and thoughtful pause, ‘‘you 
must remember many little things that 1 don’t wish to haye known; 


JACK TIER. 257 

especially while Mrs. Bucld and her handsome niece is aboaid 
here.” 

” 1 understand you, Captain {Spike. The ladies shall Tarn no 
more from me than they know already.” 

‘‘ Thank’e for that, Jack — thauk’e with all my heart. Ship* 
mates of our standing ought to be fast friends; and so you’ll find 
rue, if you’ll only sail under the true colors, my man.” 

At that moment Jack longed to let the captain know how stren- 
uously he had insisted that very night on rejoining his vessel; and 
this at a time, too, when the brig was falling into disrepute. But 
this he could not do, without betraying the secret of the lovers — so 
lie chose to say nothing. 

” There is no use in blabbing all a man knows, and the galley is 
a sad place for talking. Galley news is poor news, 1 suppose you 
know, Jack ” 

“I’ve hear’n say as much on board o’ man-of-war. It’s a great 
place for the ofiicers to meet and talk, and smoke, in Uncle Sam’s 
crafts; and what a body hears in such places, is pretty much news- 
paper stuff, I do suppose.” 

“ Ay, ay, that’s it; not to be thought of half an hour after it has 
been spoken Here’s a doubloon for you, Jacfi; and all for the 
sake of old times. Now, tell me, my little fellow, how do the ladies 
come on? Doesn’t Miss Rose get over her mourning on account of 
the mate? Aren’t we to have the pleasure of seein’ her on de(;k 
soon?” 

“1 can’t answer tor the minds and fancies of young women. 
Captain Spike. They are difficult to undersiand; and 1 w'ould 
rather not meddle with what 1 can’t understand.” 

“ Poh, poll, man; you must eret over that. You might be of 
great use to me. Jack, in a very delicate affair— for you know how 
it is with wmmen; they must be handled as a man would handle 
this brig among breakers; Rose, in partic’lar, is as skittish as a 
colt.” 

“ Stephen Spike,” said Jack, solemnly, but on so low a key that 
it entirely changed his usually liarsh and cracked voice to one that 
sounded soft, if not absolutely pleasant, “ do you never think of 
hereafter? Y'our days are almost run; a very few years, in your 
calling it may be a very few weeks, or a few hours, and time will 
be done with you, and etarnity will commence. Do you never 
think of a hereafter?” 

Spike started to his feet, gazing at Jack intently; then he wiped 
the perspiration from his face, and began to pace the deck rapidly, 
muttering to himself — “ This has been a most accursed night! First 
the mate, and now this! Blast me, but 1 thought it was a voice 
from the grave! Graves! can’t they keep those that belong to 
them, or have rocks and waves no graves?” 

"What more passed through the mind of the captain must remain 
a secret, for he kept it to himself; nor did he take any further notice 
of his companion. Jack, finding that he was unobserved, passed 
quietly below, and took the place in his berth, which he had only 
temporarily abandoned. 

Just as the day dawned the “ Swash ” reached the vicinity of the 
wreck again. Sail was shortened, and the brig stood in until near 


■♦Nf 


JACK TIER. 


25.8 

enough for the purpose of her commander, when she was hove-to, 
so near the mast-heads that, by lowering the 3"awl, a line was sent 
out to the foremast, and the brig was hauled close alongside. The 
diiection of theVecf at that point formed a lee; and the vessel laj’’ 
in water sufficientW smooth for her object. 

This was done shon after the sun had risen, and Spike now 
ordered all hands calKd, and began his operations in earnest. By 
sounding carefully around the schooner when last here, he had 
ascertained her situation to his entire satisfaction. She had settled 
on a shelf of a reef, in such a position that her bows lay in a sort of 
cradle, while lier stei n was several feet nearer to the surface than 
the opposite extremity. This last fact was apparent, indeed, by the 
masts themselves, the lower mast aft being several feet oui of water, 
while the foremast was entirely buiied, leaving nothing but the 
foretop-mast exposed. On these great premises Spike had laid the 
foundation of the practical problem he intended to solve. 

ISJo expectation existed of ever getting the schooner afloat again. 
All that Spike and Sehor Monttalderon now aimed at was to obtain 
the doubloons, which the former thought could be got at in the fol- 
lowing manner. He knew that it would be much easier handling 
the wreck, so tar as its gravity was concerned, while the hull con- 
tinued submerged. lie also knew that one end could be raised with 
a comparatively trifling effort, so long as the other rested pn the 
rock. Under these circumstances, therefore, he proposed merely to 
get slings around the after body of the schooner, as near her stern- 
post, indeed, as would be safe, and to raise that extremity of the 
vessel to the surface, leaving most of the weight of the craft to rest 
on the bows. The difference between the power necessary to effect 
this much, and that which would be required to raise the whole 
W'reck, would be like the difference in power necessary to turn over 
a log with one end resting on the ground, and turning Ihe same log 
by lifting it bodily in the arms, and turning it in the air. With the 
stern once above water, it would be easy to come at the bag of 
doubloons, which Jach Tier had placed in a locker above the tran- 
soms. 

Tne first thing was to secure the brig properly, in order that she 
might bear the necessary strain. This was done very much as has 
been described already, in the account of the manner in wdiich she 
was secured and supported in order to raise the schooner at the Dry 
Tortugas. An anchor was laid abreast and to windward, and pur- 
chases w'ere brought to the masts, as before. Then the bight of the 
chain brought from the Toriugas was brought under the schooner’s 
keel, and counter-purchases, leading from both the foremast and 
mainmast of the brig, w^ere brought to it, and set taut. Spike 
now carefully examined all his fastenings, looking to his cables as 
well as his mechanical power aloft, heaving in upon this, and veer- 
ing out upon that, in order to bring the “Molly” square to her 
w'ork; after which he ordered the people to knock-off for their 
dinners. By that time it was high noon. 

While Stephen Spike was thus employed on the wreck, matters 
and things were not neglected at the Tortugas. The “ Pough- 
keepsie ” had no sooner anchored than Wallace went on l)oard and 
made his repm’t. Captain Mull then sent for Mulford, with whom 


JACK TIER, 


259 

he had a long personal conference. This officer was getting gray, 
and consequently he had acquired experience. It was evident to 
Harry, at first, that he "was regarded as one who had been willingly 
engaged in an unlawful pursuit, but who had abandoned it to push 
dearer interests in another quarter. It was some time before the 
commander of the sloop-ot-war could divest himself of this opinion, 
tliough it gradually gave way before the frankness of the mate’s 
manner, and the manliness, simplicity, and justice of bis senti- 
ments. Perhaps Rose liad some influence also in bringing about 
this favorable change. 

Wallace did not fail to let it be known that turtle-soup was to be 
had ashore; and man}’- was the guest our heroine had to supply 
with that agreeable compound, in the course of the morning. Jack 
Tier had manifested so much skill in the preparation of the dish 
that its reputation soon extended to the cabin, and the captain was 
induced to land, in order to ascertain how far rumor was or was 
not a liar, on this Interesting occasion. So ample was the custom, 
indeed, that Wallace had the consideration to send one of the ward- 
room servants to the light-house, in order to relieve Rose from a 
duly that was getting to be a little irksome. She was seeing com- 
pany ” as a bride, in a novel and rather unpleasant manner;" and it 
wurs in consequence of a suggestion of the “ ship’s gentleman ” that 
the remains of the turtle were transferred to the vessel, and were 
put into the coppers, secundum artem, by the regular cooks. 

It was after tickling his palate with a bowl of the soup, and 
enjoying a half hour’s conversation with Rose, that Captain Mull 
summoned Harry to a final consultation on the subject of their 
future proceedings. By this time the commander of the “ Pough- 
keepsie ” was in a better humor with his new acquaintance, more 
disposed to believe him, and infinitely more inclined to listen to his 
suggestions and advice than he had been in their previous inter- 
views. Yf’’ allace was present in his character of “ship’s gentle- 
man,” or, as having nothing to do, while his senior, the first 
lieutenant, was working like a horse on board the vessel, in the 
execution of his round of daily duties. 

At this consultation the parties came into a right understanding 
of each other’s views and characters. Captain’Mull was slow to 
yield his confidence, but when he did bestow it^he bestow’ed it 
sailor-fashion, or with all his heart. Satisfied at last that he had to 
do with a young man of honor, and one who was true to the flag, 
he consulted freely with our mate, asked his advice, and was greatly 
influenced in the formation of his final decision by the opinions that 
Hany modestly advanced, maintaining them, however, with solid 
arguments, and reasons that every seaman could comprehend. 

Mulford knew the plans of Spike by means of his own commu- 
nications with the Senor Montefalderon. Once acquainted with the 
projects of his old commander, it was easy tor him to calculate the 
time it would require to put them in execution, with the means that 
w^ere to be found on board the “ Swash.” “ It will take the brig un- 
til near morning,” he said, “to treat up to the place where the 
wreck lies. Spike will wait for light to commence operations, and 
several hours will be necessary to moor the brig, and get out the 
anchors with which he will think it necessary to stay his masts. 


260 


JACK TIER. 


Then he will hook on, and he may partly raise the hull before night 
returns. JMore than this he can never do; audit would not sur- 
prise me were he merely to get everything ready for heaving on his 
purchases to-morrow, and suspend further proceeainirs until the 
next day, in preference to having so heavy a strain on his spars all 
night. He has not the force, however, to carry on such a duty to a 
very late hour; and you may count with perfect security. Captain 
Mull, on bis being found alongside of the wreck at sunrise the next 
day after to-morrow, in all probability with his anchors down, and 
fast to the wreck. By timing your own arrival well nothing will 
be easier than to get liim fairly under your guns; and once uflder 
your guns the brig must give up. AVhen you chased her out of this 
very port, a few days since, you would have brought her up could 
you have kept her within range of those terrible shells ten minutes 
longer.” 

” You wmuld then advise my not sailing from this place imme- 
diately?” said Mull. 

” It will be quite time enough to get under way late in the after- 
noon, and then under short canvas. Ten hours will be ample time 
for this ship to beat up to that passage in, and it will be imprudent 
to arrive too soon; nor do 1 suppose you will wish to be playing 
round the reef in the dark.” 

To the justice of all this Captain Mull assented; and the plan of 
proceeding.s w'as deliberately and intelligently formed. As it w^as 
necessary for Mulford to go in the ship in order to act as pilot, no 
one else on board knowing exactly where to find the wreck, the 
commander of the “Poughkeepsie” had the civility to offer the 
young couple the hospitalities of his own cabin, with one of his 
state-rooms. This offer Harry gratefully accepted, it being under- 
stood that the ship wmuld laud them at Key West, as soon as the 
contemplated duty was executed. Rose felt so much anxiety about 
her aunt that any other arrangement w'ould scarcely have pacified 
her fears. 

In consequence of these arrangements, the “ Poughkeepsie ” lay 
quietly at her anchors irntil near sunset. In the interval, her boats 
were out in all directions, parties of the officers visiting the islet 
where the powder had exploderl and the islet where the tent erected 
for the use of the females was still standing. As for the light-house 
island, an order of Captain Mull’s prevented it from being crowded 
in a manner unpleasant to Rose, as might otherwise have been the 
case. The few officers who did land there, however, appeared much 
struck with the ingenuous simplicity ami beauty of the bride, and a 
manl^y interest in her welfare was created amonc- them all, princi- 
pally by means of the representations of the second lieutenant and 
the chaplain. About five o’clock she W’ent off to the ship, accom- 
panied by Harry, and was hoisted on board in the manner usually 
practiced by vessels of w^ar which have no accommodation-ladder 
rigged. Rose was immediately installed in her state-room, where she 
found every convenience necessary to a comfortable though small 
apartment. 

It was quite late in the afternoon, when the boatswain and his 
mate piped “All hands up anchor, ahoy!” Harry hastened into 
the state-room for his charming bride, anxious to show her the 


JACK TIER. 


261 


movements ot a vessel of war on such an occasion. Much as she 
had seen of the ocean, and of a vessel, within the last few weeks. 
Rose now found that she had yet a great deal to learn, and that a 
ship of war had many points to distinguish her from a vesseJ en- 
gaged in comnierce. " 

The “ Poughkeepsie ’’was only a sloop-of-war, or a corvette, in 
construction, number of her guns, aid rate; but she was a ship ot 
the dimensions of an old-fashioned frigate, measuring about one 
thousand tons. The frigates of which we read halt a century 
since, were seldom ever as large as this, though they were differ- 
ently built, in having a regular gun-deck, or one armed deck that 
was entirely covered, with another above it; and on the quarter- 
deck and forecastle of the last of which were also batteries of 
lighter guns. To the contrary ot all this, the “ Poughkeepsie ” had 
but one armed deck, and on that on’y twenty guns. These pieces, 
howevei, were of unusually heavy caliber, throwing thirty-two 
pound shot, with the exception ot the Paixhans, or Columbiads, 
which throw shot of even twice that weight. The vessel hacf a crew 
of two hundred souls, all told; and she had the spars, anchors, and 
other equipments of a light frigate. 

In another .great particular aid the “ Poughkeepsie ” differ from 
the corvette-built vessels that were so much in favor at the begin- 
ning of the century; a species of craft obtained from the French, 
who have taught the world .so much in connection with naval sci- 
ence, and who, after building some of the best vessels that ever 
floated, have failed in knowing how to handle them, though not al- 
ways in that. The “ Poughkeepsie,” while she had no sparer upper 
deck, properly speaking, had a poop and a toj gallant-forecastle. 
■Wilhiii the last were the cabins and other accommodations of the 
captain; an airangement that w^as necessaiy for a craft of her con- 
struction, that carried so many officers, and so large a cre'vt^. With- 
out it, sufficient space would not be had for the uses of the last. 
One gun ot aside was in the main cabin, there being a very neat 
and amply spacions after-cabin betw^een the state-rooms, as is ordi- 
narily the casein all vessels. from the size of frigates up to that of 
three-deckers. It may be w’ell to explain here, while on this subject 
of construction, that iii naval parlance a ship is called a single- 
decked vessel, a fwc>-decker, or' a //i?’e<?-decKer, not from life number 
of decks she actually possesses, but from the number of ^^im-decks 
that she has, or of those that are fully armed. Thus a frigate has 
our decks— the spar, gun, btrth, and orlop (or haul-up) decks; but 
she is called a “ single-decked ship,” from the circumstance that 
only one ot these four decks has a complete range of batteries. The 
two-decker has two ot these fully armed decks, and the three- 
deckers three; though, in fact, the tw^o-decker has five, and the 
three-decker six decks. .A.sking pardon for this little digression, 
which we trust will be found useful to a portion of our readers, we 
return to the narrative. 

Harry conducted Rose to the poop of the ” Poughkeepsie,” where 
she might enjoy the best view of the operation of getting so large a 
cratt under way, man-of-war fashion. The details were mysteries 
of course, and Rose knew no more of the process by vvhich the 
chain was brought to the capstan, by the intervention of w hat is 


m2 


JACK TIER. 


called a messenger, tlian if slie had not been present. She saw two 
hundred men distributed about the vessel, some at the capstan, 
some on the forecastle, some in the tops, and others in the wuist, 
and she heard the order to “heave round.” Tlien the shrill life 
commenced the lively air of “The gill 1 left behind me,” rather 
more from a habit in the fifer, than from any great regrets for the 
girls left at the Dry Tortugas, as was betrayed to Mulford by the 
smiles of the otllcers, and the glances they cast at Rose. As for the 
latter, she knew nothing of the air, and was quite unconscious of 
the sort of parody that the gentlemen of the quarter deck fancied it 
conveyed on her own situation. 

Rose was principally struck with the quiet that prevailed in the 
ship, Captain Mull being a silent man himself, and insisted on hav- 
ing a quiet vessel. The first lieutenant was not a noisy officer, and 
from these two, everybody else on board received their cues. A sim- 
ple “ All ready, sir,” uttered by the first to the captain, in a com- 
mon tone of voice, answered by a “ Very well, sir, get your an- 
chor, * in the same tone, set everything in motion. “ Stamp and 
go,” soon followed, and, taking the whole scene together. Rose 
felt a strange excitement come over her. There were the shrill, ani- 
mating music of the fife; the stamping time of the men at the bars; 
the perceptible motion of the ship, as she drew ahead to her an- 
chor, and now and then the call between Wallace, who stood be- 
tween the kniglitheads, as commander-in-chief on the forecastle (the 
second lieutenant’s station when the captain does not take the trum- 
pet, as very rarely happens), and the “executive officer” aft 
“carrying on duty,” all conspiring to produce this effect. At 
length — and it was but a minute or two from the time when the 
“ stamp and go ” commenced — Wallace called out, “ A short stay- 
peak, sir.” “Heave and pull” followed, and the men left their 
bars. 

The process of making sail succeeded. There was no “ letting 
fall ” a fore- topsail here, as on board a merchantman, but all the 
canvas dropped from the yards, into festoons-, at the same instant. 
Then the three topsails were sheeted home and hoisted, all at once, 
and all in a single minute of time; the yards were counterbraced, 
and the capstan-bars were again manned. In two more minutes it 
was “ hcjave and she’s up and dowii.” Then “ heave and in sight,” 
and “heave and pull again.” The cat-fall was ready, and it was 
“ hook on,” when the fife seemed to turn its attention to another 
subject as the men catted the anchor. Literally, all this was done 
in less time than we have taken to write it down in, and in very 
little more time than the reader has wasted in perusing what we 
have here written. 

The “ Poughkeepsie ” was now “ free of bottom ” as it is called, 
with her anchor catted^and fished, and her position maintained in 
the basin where slie lay* by the counterbracing of her yards, and 
the counteracting force of the wind on her sails. It only remained 
to “ fill away,” by bracing her head-yards sharp up, when the vast 
mass overcame its inertia, and began to move through the water. 
All this was done, the jib and spanker were set. The two most 
beautiful things with which we are acquainted, are a graceful and 
high-bred woman entering or quitting a drawing-room, more par- 


JACK TIEE. 


263 

ticularly the last, and a man-of-war leaving her anchorage in a 
moderate breeze, and when not hurried for time. On the present 
occasion. Captain Mull was in no haste, and the ship passed out to 
windward of the light, as the Swash ” had done the previous 
night, under her three topsails, spanker and jib, with the light sails 
loose and flowing, and the courses hanging in the brails. 

A great deal is said concerning the detective construction of the 
light cruisers of the navy, of late years, and complaints are made 
that they will not sail, as American cruisers ought to sail, and were 
wont to sail in old times. That there has been some ground for 
these complaints, we believe; though the evil has been greatly ex- 
aggerated, and some explanation may be given, we think, even in 
cases in which the strictures are not altogether without justification. 
The trim of a light sharp vessel is easily deranged; and oflicers, in 
their desire to command as much as possible, often get their vessels 
of this class too deep. They are, generally, for the sort of cruiser, 
over-sparred, over-manned, and over-provisioned; consequently, 
too deep. \Ve recollect a case in which one of these delicate craft, 
a half-rigged brig, was much abused for “ having lost her sailing,” 
She did, indeed, lose her fore-yard, and, after that, she sailed like 
a witch, until she got a new one! If the facts were inquired into, 
in the spirit which ought to govern such inquiries, it would be 
found that even most of the much- abused ” ten sloops ” pr(»ved to 
be better vessels than common. The ‘‘St. Louis,” the ” Vin- 
cennes,” the ” Concord,” the ” Fairfield,” the ” Boston,” and the 
“Falmouth,” are instances of what we mean. In behalf of the 
“ Warren,” and the “ Lexington,” w^e believe no discreet man was 
ever heard to utter one syllable, except as wholesome crafts. But 
the “ Poughkeepsie ” was a very different sort of vessel from any 
of the “ ten sloops.” She was every way a good ship, and, as Jack 
expressed it, was “ a good goer.” The most severe nautical critic 
could scarcely have found a fault in her, as she passed out be- 
tween the islets, on the evening of the day mentioned, in the sort 
of undress we have described. The whole scene, indeed, was im- 
pressive, and of singular maiitime characteristics. 

The little islets scattered about— low, sandy, and untenanted- 
were the only land in sight; all else was the boundless waste of 
waters. The solitary light rose like an aquatic monument, as if 
purposely to give its character to the view. Captain Mull had 
caused its lamps to be trimmed and lighted, for the very reason 
that had induced Spike to do the same thing, and the dim star they 
presented was just struggling into existence as it might be, as the 
brilliance left by the setting sun was gradually diminished and 
finally disappeared. As for the ship, the hull appeared dark, glossy, 
and graceful, as is usual with a vessel of war. Her sails were in 
soft contrast to the color of the hull, and they offered the variety 
and divergence from straight lines which are thought necessary to 
perfect beauty. Those that were set, presented the symmetry in 
their trim, the flatness in their hoist, and the breadth that distin- 
guish a man of- war; while those that wmre loose, floated in the air 
in every wave and cloud-like swell that we so often see in light 
canvas that is released from the yards in a fresh breeze. The 
ship had an undress look from this circumstance, but it \vas such 


JACK TIEIi. 


264 

an undress as denotes the man or woman of the world. This un- 
dress appearance was increased by the piping down of the ham- 
mocks, which left the nettings loose, and with a negligent but still 
knowing look about them. 

When half a mile from the islets, the main-yard was braced 
aback, and the maiulopsail was laid to the mast. As soon as the 
ship had lost her way, tw^o or three boats, that had been towing 
astern, each with its boat-sitter, or keeper, in it, were hauled up 
alongside, or to the quarters, were “ hooked on,” and “ run up ” 
to the whistling of the call. All was done at once, and all was done 
in a couple of minutes. As soon as effected, the maintopsail was 
again filled, and away the ship glided. 

Captain Mull was not in the habit of holding many consultations 
with his officers. It there be wisdom in a “ multitude of coun- 
selors,” he was of opinion it was not on board a man-of-war. iSia- 
poleon is reported to have said that one bad general was better than 
tico good ones; meaning that one head to an army, though of inter- 
ior quality, is better than a hydra of Solomons or Caesars. Captain 
Mull was much of the same way ot thinking, seldom troubling his 
subordinates with anything but orders. He interfered very little 
with “ working Willy,” though he saw, effectually, that he did his 
duty. “ The ship’s gentleman ” nught enjoy his joke as much as 
he pleased, so long as he chose his time and place with discretion; 
but in the captain’s presence joking was not tolerated, unless it were 
after dinner, at his own table, and in his own cabin. Even there it 
was not precisely such joking as took place daily, not to say hourly, 
in the midshipmen’s messes. 

In making up his mind as to the mode of proceeding on the pres- 
ent occasion, therefore. Captain Mull, while he had heard all that 
Mulford had to tell him, and had even encouraged Wallace to give 
his opinions, made up his decision for himself. After learning all 
that Harry had to communicate, he made his own calculations as t^ 
time and distance, and quietly determined to carry whole sail on 
the ship for the next four hours. This he did'as the wisest course 
of making sure of getting to windwarxi while he could, and know- 
ing that the vessel could be brought under short canvas at any mo- 
ment when it might be deemed necessary. The light was a beacon 
to- let him know his distance, with almost mathematical precision. 
It could be seen so many miles at sea, each mile being estimated by 
so many feet ot elevation, and having taken that elevation, he was 
sure of his distance from the glittering object, so long as it could be 
seen from his own poop. It was also of use, by letting him know 
the range of the reef, though Captain Mull, unlike Spike, had deter- 
mined to make one leg ofit~ to the northward and eastward until he 
had brought the light nearly to the horizon, and then to make an- 
other to the southward and eastward, believing that the last stretch 
would bring him to the reef, almost as far to windward as he de- 
sired to be. In furtherance of this plan, the sheets of the different 
sails were drawn home, as soon as the boats were in, and the 
“ Poughkeepsie,” bending a little to the breeze, gallantly dashed 
the waves aside, as she went through and over them, at a rate ot 
not less than ten good knots in the hour. As soon as all these 
arrangements were made, the watch went below, and from that time 


JACK TIER. 


265 

throughout the night, the ship offered nothing but the quiet man- 
ner in which ordinary duly is carried on in a well-regulated vessel 
of war at sea, between the hours of sun and sun. Leaving the good 
craft to pursue her way with speed and certainty, we must now re- 
turn to the “ Swash.” 

Captain Spike had founfl the mooring of his brig a much more 
difficult task, on this occasion, than on that of his former attempt 
to raise the schooner. Then he had to lift the wreck bodily, and he 
knew that laying the ” Swash ” a few feet further ahead or astern, r 
could be of no great moment, inasmuch ’Ss the moment the schooner 
was off the bottom, she would swing in perpendicularly to the pur- 
chases. But now one end of the schooner, her bows, was to remain 
fast, and it became of importance to be certain that the purchases 
were so placed as to bring the least strain on the masts while they 
acted most' directly on the after body of the vessel to be lifted. This 
point gave Spike more trouble than he had anticipated. Fully one 
half of the remainder of the day, even after he had begun to heave 
up his purchases, was spent in rectifying mistakes in connection 
with this matter, and in getting up additional securities to his 
masts. 

In one respect Spike had, from the first, made a good disposition. 
The masts of the brig raked materially, and by bringing the head of 
the “ Swash ” in the direction of the schooner, he converted this 
fact, which might otherwise have been of great disadvantage, into 
a circumstance that was favorable. In consequence of the brig’s 
having been thus moored, the strain, which necessarily led forward, 
came nearly in a line with the masts, and the latter were much bet- 
ter able to support it. Notwithstanding this advantage, however, 
it was found expedient to get up preventer-stays, and to give the 
spars all the additiorkal support that could be conveniently bestowed. 
Hours weie passed in making these preliminary or, it might be bet- 
ter to say, secondar}'' arrangements. 

It was past five in the afternoon when the people of the “ Swash ” 
began to heave on their purchases as finally disposed. After much 
creaking, and the settling of straps and lashings into their places, it 
was found that everything stood, and the work went on. In ten 
minutes Spike found he had the weight of the schooner, so far as he 
should be obliged to sustain it at all, until the stern rose above the 
surface; and he felt reasonably secure of the doubloons. Further 
than this he did not intend to make any experiment on* her, the 
Senor Montefalderon having abandoned all idea of recovering the 
vessel ilself, now so much of the cargo was lost. The powder was 
mostly consumed, and that which remained in the hull must, by this 
lime, be injured by dampness, it not ruined. So reasoned Don Juan 
at least. 

As the utmost care was necessary, the capstan and windlass were 
made to do their several duties with great caution. As inch by inch 
was gained, the extra supports of the masts were examined, and it 
was found that a much heavier strain now came on the masts than 
when the schooner was raised before. This was altogether owing 
to the direction in which it came, and to the tact that the anchor 
planted off .abeam was not of as much use as on the former occa- 
sion, in consequence of its not lying so much in a straight line wiiii 


JACK TIEE. 


266 

tlie direction of the purchases. Spike began to have misgivings on 
account of his masts, and this so much the more because the wind 
appeared to haul a little further to the northv ard, and the weather 
to look unsettled. Should a swell roll into the bight of the reef 
where the brig lay, by raising the hull a little loo rudely, there would 
be the imminent danger of at least springing, if not of absolutely 
carrying away both the principal spars. It was, therefore, necessary 
to resort to extraordinary precautions, in order to obviate this 
danger. 

Tlie captain was indebted to his boatswain, who was now in fact 
acting as his mate, for the suggestion of the plan next adopted. 
Two of the largest spars of the brig were got out, with their heads 
securely lashed to the links of the chain by which the wreck was 
suspended, one on each side of the schooner. Pig-iron and shot 
were lashed to the heels of these spars, which carried them to the 
bottom. As the spars w'ere of greater length than was necessary to 
reach the rock, they necessarily lay at an inclination, which w\as 
lessened every inch the after body of the wreck was raised, thus 
forming props to the hull of the schooner. 

Spike was delighted with the success of this scheme, of which he 
was assured by a single experiment in heaving. After getting the 
spars well planted at their heels, he even ordered the men to slacken 
the purchases a little, and found that he could actually relieve the 
brig from the strain, by causing the wreck to be supported altogether 
by "these shores. This was avast relief from the cares of the ap- 
proaching night, and indeed alone prevented the necessity of the 
work’s going on without interruption, or rest, until the end was 
obtained. 

The people of the “ bwash ” were just assured of the comforta- 
ble fact related, as the “Poughkeepsie” was passing out from 
among the islets of the Dry Tortugas. They imagined themselves 
happy in having thus made a sufficient provision against the most 
formidable of all the dangers that beset them, at the very moment 
when the best-laid plan for their destruction was on the point of 
being executed. In this respect, they resembled millions of others 
of their fellows, who hang suspended over the vast abyss of eternity, 
totally unconscious of the irretrievable character of the fall that is 
so soon to occur. Spike, as has been just stated, was highly pleased 
with his own expedient, and he pointed it out with exultation to the 
Senor Montefalderon, as soon as it was completed. 

“ A nicer fit was never made by a Liinnim leg-maker, Don 
"Wan,” the captain cried, after going over the explanations connected 
with the shores; “ there she stands, at an angle of fifty with tw'o as 
good limbs under her as a body could wish. 1 could now cast off 
everything, and leave the wreck in what they call 'statu quo,' 
which, 1 suppose, means on its pins, like a statue. The taffrail is 
not six inches below the surface of the water, and half an hour of 
heaving will bring the starn in sight.” 

“ Your work seems ingeniously contrived to get up one extremity 
of the vessel, Don Esteban,” returned the Mexican; “but are you 
quite certain that the doubloons are in her?” 

This question w^as put because the functionary of a government in 
wffiich money was very apt to stick in passing from hand to hand 


JACK TIER. 


261 

was naturally suspicious, and he found it difficult to believe that 
Mulford, Jack Tier, and even Biddy, under all the circumstances, 
had not paid special attention to their own interests; 

“ The bag was placed in one of the transom-lockers before the 
schooner capsized,” returned the captain, “as Jack Tier informs 
me; it so, it remains there still. Even the sharks will not touch 
gold Don ’VVAn.” 

“ Would it not be well to call Jack, and hear his account of the 
matter once more, now we appear to be so near the Eldorado of our 
wishes?” 

Bpike assented, and Jack was summoned to the quarter-deck. The 
little fellow had scarce shown himself throughout the day, and he 
now made his appearance with a slow^ step, and reluctantly. 

“ Tou’v/^ made no mistake about them ’ere doubloons, 1 take it. 
Master Tier?” said SpiKe, In a very nautical sort of style of ad- 
dressing an inferior. “You knoic them to be in one of the transom- 
lockers?” 

Jack mounted on the breech of one of the guns, and looked over 
the bulwarks at the dispositions that had been made about the 
wreck. The taffrail of the schooner actually came in sight, when a 
little swell passed over it, leaving it lor an instant in the trough. 
The steward thus caught a glimpse again of the craft on board 
which he had seen so much hazard, and he shook his head and 
seemed to be thinking of anything but the question which had just 
been put to him. 

“ Well, about that gold?” asked Spike, impatiently. 

“ The sight of that craft has Drought other thoughts than gold 
into my mind. Captain Spike,” answered Jack, gravely, “ and it 
would be well for all us mariners, if we thought less of gold and 
more of the dangers we run. For hours and hours did I stand over 
etarniiy, on the bottom of that schooner, Don Wan, holdin’ my life, 
as it might be, at the marcy of a few bubbles of air.” 

“ What has alFthat to do with the gold? Have you deceived me 
about, that locker, little rascal?” 

“ No, sir, I’ve not deceived you— no. Captain Spike, no. The 
bag is in the upper transom locker, on the starboard side. There L 
put it with my own hands, and a good lift it was; and there you’ll 
find it, if you’ll cut through the quarter-deck at the spot 1 can p’int 
out to you.” 

This information seemed to give a renewed energy to all the 
native cupidity of the captain, who called the men from their sup- 
pers, and ordered them to commence heaving anew. The word was 
passed to the crew that “ it was now for doiffiloons,” and they went 
to the bars and handspikes, notwithstanding the sun had set, cheer- 
fullj^ and cheering. 

All Spike’s expedients admirably answered the intended purposes. 
The stern of the schooner rose gradually, and at each lift the heels 
of the shores dropped in more perpendicularly, carried -by the 
weights attached to them, and the spars stood as firm props to 
secure all that was gained. In a quarter of an hour, most of that 
part of the stern which was within five or six feet of the taffrail, rose 
above the water, coming fairly in view. 

Spike now shouted to the men to “ palll” then he directed the 


JACK TIER. 


268 

falls to be very gradually eased off, in order to ascertain if tbe 
shores would still do tlieir duty. The experiment was successful, 
and presently the wreck stood in its upright position, sustained 
entirely by the two spars. As the last were now nearly perpen- 
dicular, they were capable of bearing a very heavy weight, and 
Spike was so anxious to relieve his own brig from the strain she had 
been enduring, that he ordered the lashings of the blocks to be 
loosened, trusting to his shores to do their duty. Against this con- 
fidence the boatswain ventured a remonstrance, but the gold was 
too near to’allov/ the captain to listen or reply. The carpenter was 
ordered over on the wreck with his tools, while Spike, the Senor 
iMontefalderon, and two men to row the boat and keep it steady, 
went in the yawl to watch the progress of the work. Jack Tier 
was ordered to stand in the chains, and to point out, as nearly as 
possible, the place where the carpenter was to cut. 

When all was ready. Spike gave the word, and the chips began 
to fly. By the use of the saw and the ax, a hole large enough to 
admit two or tlyee men at a time, was soon made in the deck, and the 
sounding tor the much coveted locker commenced. By this time, it 
was quite dark; and a lantern was passed down from the brig, in 
order to enable those who searched for the locker to see. Spike had 
breasted the yawl close up to the hole, where it was held by the 
men, while the captain himself passed the lantern and his own head 
into the opening to reconnoiter. 

“Ay, it’s all right!” cried the voice of the captain from within 
his cell -like cavity. “ 1 can just see the lid of the locker that Jack 
means, and we shall soon have what we are a’ter„ Carpenter, you 
may as well slip oil your clothes at once, and go inside; 1 will point 
out to you the place where to find the locker. You’re certain. Jack, 
it was the starboard locker?” 

“ Ay, ay, sir, the starboard locker, and no other.” 

The carpenter had soon got into the hole, as naked as when he 
was born. .It was a gloomy-looking place for a man to descend 
into at that hour, the light from the lantern being no great matter, 
and half the time it was shaded by the manner in which Spike was 
compelled to hold it. 

“ Take care and get a good footing, carpenter,” said the captain, 
in a kinder tone than common, “ before you let go with your hands; 
but 1 suppose you can swim, as a matter of course?” 

“No, sir, not a stroke— 1 never could make out in the water at 
all.” 

“ Have the more care, then. Had 1 known as much, 1 would 
have sent another hand down; but mind your footing. More to 
the left, man — more to the left. That is the lid of the locker — your 
hand is on it; why do you not open it?” 

“ It is swelled by the wmter, sir, and will need a chisel, or some 
tool of that sort, just call out to one of the men, sir, it you please, 
to pass me a chisel fiom my tool-chest. A good stout one will be 
best.” 

This order was given, and, during the delay it caused. Spike en- 
couraged the carpenter to be cool, and above all to mind his footing. 
His own eagerness to get at the gold was so great that he kept his 


JACK TIER. . SG9 

head in at the hole, completely cutting off the man within from all 
communication with the outer world," 

“ What’s the matter with you?” demanded Spike, d little sternly. 
“"You shiver, and yet the water can not be cold in this latitude. 
Ko, my hand makes it just the right warmth to bo pleasant,” 

“ It’s not the water, Captain Spike — 1 wish they would come with 
the chisel. Did you hear nothing, sir? I’m certain 1 did!” 

“Hear! — what is there here to be heard, unless there may be 
some fish inside, thrashing about to get out of the vessel’s hold?” 

“ 1 am sure 1 bear’d something lik(?a groan. Captain Spike. 1 wish 
you would let me come out, sir, and I’ll go for the chisel myself; 
them men will never find it.” 

“ Stay where you are, coward! are you afraid of dead men stand- 
ing against walls? Slay where you are. Ah, here is the chisel- 
now let us'^see what you can do with it,” 

“ 1 am certain 1 heard another groan. Captain Spike. 1 can not 
work, sir, I’m of no use here — do let me come out, sir, and send 
a hand down that can swim.” 

Spike uttered a terrible malediction on the miserable carpenter, 
one we do not care to repeat: then he cast the light of the lantern 
full in the man’s face. The quivering flesh, the pallid face, and 
the whole countenance wrought up almost to a frenzy of terror, 
astonished, as well as alarmed hini 

“ What ails you, man?” said the captain in a voice of thunder. 
“ Clap in the chisel, or I’ll hurl you oft into the Water. There 
is nothing here, dead or alive, to harm ye!’' 

“ The groan, sir— i hear it again! Do let me come out. Captain 
Spike.” 

Spike himself, this time, heard what even lie took for a groan. It 
came from the depths of the vessel, apparently, and was sufficiently 
distinct and audible. Astonished, yet appalled, he thrust his shoul 
ders intp the aperture, as if to dare the demon that tormented him, 
and was met by the carpenter endeavoring to escape. In the 
struggle th^t ensued _the lantern was dropped into the water, leav 
ing the half-frenzied combatants contending in the dark. The 
groan was renewed, when the truth flashed on the minds of both. 

“The shores! the shores!” exclaimed the carpenter from within. 

“The shores!” repeated Spike, throwing himself back into the 
boat, and shouting to his men to “ see all clear of the wreck!” The 
grating of one of the shores on the coral beneath was now. heard 
,p’ainer than ever, and the lower exlreraily slipped outward, not 
astern, as had been apprehended, letting the wreck slowly settle to 
the bottom again. One piercing shriek arose from the narrow 
cavity within; then the gurgling of water into the aperture was 
heard, when naught of sound could be distinguished but the sullen 
and steady wash of the waves of the Gulf over the rocks of the 
reef. 

The impression made by this accident was most profound. A 
fatality appeared to attend the brig; and most of the men connected 
the sad occurrence of this night with the strange appearance of 
the previous evening. Even the Senoi Montefalderon was dis- 
posed to abandon tlie doubloons, and he urged Spike to make the 
best of his way for Yucatan, to seek a friendly harbor. The cap- 


JACK TIEli. 


270 

tain wavered; but avarice was too strong a passion in him to be 
easily diverted from its object, and he refused to give up his purpose. 
As tlie wreck was entirely free from the brig when it went down 
for the third time, no injury was sustained by the last on this o 3- 
casion. By renewing the lashings, everything would be ready to 
begin the work anew— and this, Spike was resolved to attempt in 
the morning. The men were too much fatigued, and it was too 
dark to think of pushing matters any further that night; and it was 
very questionable whether they could have been got to work. 
Orders were consequent!}’’ given for all hands to turn in, the cap- 
tain, relieved by Don Juan and Jack Tier, having arranged to keep 
the watches of the night, 

“This is a sad accident, Don Esteban,” observed the Mexican, 
as he paced the quarter-deck together, just before the Iasi turned 
m; “a sad accident ! My miserable schooner seems to be deserted 
by its patron saint. Then your poor carpenter— I” 

“ Yes, he was a good fellow enough with a fjaw, or an adze,” 
answered Spike, yawning. “ But we gel used to such things at 
sea. It’s neither more nor less than a carpenter expended. Good- 
night, Senor Don Wan; in the mornmg we’ll be at that gold ag’in.” 


. CHAPTER XIV. 

She’s in a scene of nature’s war 
The winds ^d waters are at strife; 

And both with her contending for 
The brittle thread of human life. 

Miss Gould. 

Spike was sleeping hard in his berth, quite early on the follow- 
ing morning, before the return of light, indeed, when he suddenly 
started up, rubbed his eyes, and sprung upon deck like a man 
alarmed. He had heard, or fancied he had heard, a cry. A voice, 
once well known and listened to, seemed to call him in the very 
portals of his eai. At first he had listened to its words in wonder, 
entranced like the bird by the snake, the tones recalling scenes and 
persons that had once possessed a strong control over his rude feel- 
ings. Presently the voic6 became harsher in its utterance, and it 
said : 

“ Stephen Spike, awake! The hour is getting late, and you have 
enemies nearer to you than you iifiagine. Awake, Stephen, awake 1*^ 
When the captain was on his feet, and had plunged his head into 
a basin of water that stood ready for him in tlie state-room, he could 
not have told, tor his life, whether he had been dreaming or wak- 
ing, whether what he had heard, was the result of a feverish imagi- 
nation, or of the laws of nature. The call haunted him all that 
morning, or until events of importance so pressed upon him as to 
draw his undivided attention to them alone. , 

It was not yet day. The men were still in heavy sleep, lying 
about the decks, for they avoided tire small and crowded forecastle 
in that warm climate, and the night was, apparently, at its deepest 
hour. Spike walked forward to look for the man charged with the 
anchor-watcli. It proYCd to be Jack Tier^ who wa& standing near 


JA(TK TIER. 


271 

the galley, his arms folded as usual, apparently'walching the few 
signs of approaching day that were beginning to be apparent in the 
western sky The captain was in none of the best humors with the 
steward’s assistant; but Jack had unaccountably got an ascendency 
over his conrftnander, which it was certainly very unusual for any 
subordinate in the “ Swash ” to obtain. Spike had deferred more 
to Mulford than to any male he Jiad ever before employed; but this 
was the deference due to superior inf urination, manners, and origin. 

It^was corcmonplace, if not vulgar; whereas, the ascendency 
obtained by little Jack Tier was, even to its subject, entirely inexpli- 
cable. He was unwilling to admit it to himself in the most secret 
manner, though he had begun to feel it on all occasions which 
brought them, in contact, and to submit to it as a thing not to be 
averted. 

“Jack Tier,” demanded the captain, now that he had found 
himself once more atone with the other, desirous of obtaining his 
opinion on a point that harassed him, though he knew not why; 
“ Jack Tier, answer me one thing. Do you believe that we saw 
the form of a dead or of a living man at the foot of the light-house?” 

“ The dead are never seen leaning against walls in that manner, 
Stephen Spike,” answered Jack, coolly, not even taking the trouble 
to uncoil his arms. “ What you saw was a living man; and you 
would do well to be on your guard against him. Harry Mulford is 
not your friend— and there is reason for it.” 

“Harry Mulford, and living! How can that be, Jack? You 
know the port in which he chose to run. ” 

“ 1 know the rock on which you chose to abandon him, Captain 
Spike” 

“ If so, how could he be living and at the Dry Tortugas? The 
thing is impossible!” 

“ Th^ tiding is so. Tou saw Harry Mulford, living and well, 
and ready to hunt you to the gallows. Beware of him, then; and 
beware of his handsome wife!” 

“Wife! the fellov? has no wife — he has always professed to be a 
single man!” 

“ The man is married— and 1 bid you beware of his handsome 
wife. She, too, will be a witness ag’in you.” 

“ This will be news, then, Im* Rose Budd. 1 shall delight in tell- 
ing it to her, at least.” 

“ ’Twill be 110 news to Rose Budd. She was present at the wed- 
ding, and will not be taken by surprise. Rose loves Harry too well 
to let him marry, and she not present at the wedding.” 

“ Jack, yon talk strangely ! Whai is the meaning of all this? 1 
am the captain of this craft, and will not be trifled with — tell me at 
once your meaning, fellow!” 

“ My meaning is simple enough, and easily told. Rose Budd is 
the wife of Harry Mulford.” 

“ You’re dreaming, fellow, or are wishing to trifle with me?” 

“ It may be a dream, but it is one that will turn out to be true. 
If they have found the “ Poughkeepsie ” sloop-of-war, as 1 make 
no doubt they have by this time, Mulford and Rose are man and 
wife.” 

“ Fool! you know not what you say! Rose is, at this moment, 


272 


JACK TIER. 


in her berth, sick at heart on account ot the young gentleman who 
preferred to live on the Florida Reef rather than to sail in the 
‘Molly’!” 

“ Rose is not in her berth, sick or well; neither is she on board 
this brig at all. She went oft in the light-house boat fO deliver her 
lover from the naked rock— and well did she succeed in so doing. 
God was of her side, Stephen Spike; and a body seldom fails, with 
such a friend to support one.” 

Spike was astounded at these words, and not less so at the cool 
and confident manner with which they were pronounced. Jack spoke 
in a certain dogmatical, oracular manner, it is true, one that might 
have lessened his authority with a person over whom he had less 
influence; but this in no degree diminished its effect on Spike. On 
the contrary, it even disposed the captain to yield an implicit faith 
to what he heard, and also much the more because the facts he 
was told appeared ot themselves to be nearly impossible. It was 
half a minute before he had sufficiently recovered from his surprise 
to continue the discourse. 

“The light-house boat!” Spike then slowly repeated. “’Why, 
fellow, you told me the light-house boat went adrift from your own 
hands!” 

“ So it did,” answered .Jack, coolly, “ since I cast off the painter 
— and what is more, went in it.” 

“ You! This is impossible. You are telling me a fabricated lie. 
If you had gone away in that boat, how could you now be here? 
No, no— it is a miserable lie, and Rose is below!” 

“ Go and look into her state-room, and satisfy yourself with your 
own eyes.” 

Spike did as was suggested. He went below, took a lamp that 
was always suspended, lighted, in the main cabin, and, without 
ceremony, proceeded to Rose’s state-room, wdiere he soon found that 
the bird had really flown. A direful execration followed this dis- 
covery, one so loud as to awaken Mrs. Budd and Biddy. Deter- 
mined not to do things by halves, he broke open the door of the 
widow’s state-room, and ascertained that the person he sought w’as 
not there. A fierce explosion of oaths and denunciations followed, 
which produced an answ'er in the customary screams. In the midst 
of this violent scene, however, questions W’ere put, and answ'ers ob 
tained, that not only served to let the captain know that Jack had told 
him nothing but truth, but to put an end to everything like amica- 
ble relations between himself and the relict of his old commander. 
Until this explosion, appearances had been observed betw’een them; 
but, from that moment, there must necessaril.y be an end of all pro- 
fession of even civility. Spike was never particularlj^ refined in his 
intercourse with females, but he now threw aside even its preten- 
sion. His rage was so great, that he totally forgot his manhood, 
♦ and lavished on both Mrs. Budd and Biddy, epithets that were alto- 
gether inexcusable, and many ot which it will not do to repeat. 
Weak and silly as was the widow, she was not without spirit; and 
on this occasion she was indisposed to submit to all this unmerited 
abuse in silence. Biddy, as usual, took her cue from her mistress; 
and between the two, their part of the wordy conflict was kept up 
with a very respectable degree of animation. 


JACK TIER, 


273 


“ I know yon— 1 know you, now!’*, screamed the widow, at the 
lop of her voice; “ and you can no longer deceive me, unworthy 
son of Neptune as you are! You are unfit to be a lubber, and 
would be log-booked for an or’nary by every gentleman on board 
ship. You, a full-jiggered seaman! No, yoii are not even halt-jig- 
gered, sir; and 1 tell you so to your face.” 

“ Yes, and it isn’t half that might be tould the likes of ycea!” put 
in Biddy, as her mistress stopped to breathe. ‘‘ And it’s Miss Rose 
you’d l)ave for a wife, when Biddy Noon would be too good for 
ye! We knows ye, and- all about ye, and can give ja'r history as 
complate from the day ye was born down to the prisent moment, 
and not find a good word to say in yer favor in all that time — and a 
precious time it is, too, for a gentleman that would marry pretthy, 
young Miss Rose! Och! I scorn to look at ye, ycr so ugly!” 

” And Ifyieg to persuade me you were a friend of my poor, dear 
Mr. Budd, whose shoe you are unworthy to touch, and wlio had 
the heart and soul for the noble profession you disgrace,” cut in the 
widow, the moment Biddy gave her a chance, by pausing to make 
a wry face as she pronounced the word " ugly,” 1 nW believe 
you capasided them poor Mexicans, in order to get their money; 
and the moment we ca‘"t anchor in a road-side I’ll go ashore, and 
complain of you for murder, 1 will.” 

“ Do, missus dear, and I’ll be your bail, will 1, and swear to all 
that happened, and more too. Och! ycr a wretch, to wish to be the 
husband of Miss Rose, and she so young and pretthy, and you so 
ould and ugly>” 

” Come away — come away, Stephen Spike, and do not stand 
wrangling with wmmen, when you and your brig, and all that be- 
longs to you, are in danger,” called out Jack Tier from the com- 
pamon-yvay. ‘‘Day is come; and what is much worse for you, 
your most dangerous enemy is coming with it.” 

Spike was almost livid with rage, and ready to burst out in awful 
maledictions; but at this summons he sprung to the ladder, and w^as 
on deck in a moment. At first, he felt a strong disposition to wreak 
his vengeance on Tier; but, fortunately tor the latter, as the cap- 
tain’s foot touched the quarter-deck, his eye fell on the ” Pough- 
keepsie,” then within half a league of the ” Sw^ash,” standing in 
low'ard the reef, though fully half a mile to leeward. This specter- 
drove all Other subjects from his mind, leaving the captain of the 
” Swash ” in the only character in which he could be said to be re- 
spectable, in that of a seaman. Almost instinctively he culled all 
hands; then gave one brief minute to a survey of his situation. 

It was, indeed, time for the ” Swash ” to be moving. There she 
lay, with three anchors down, including that of the schooner, all she 
had, in fact, with the exception of her^best bower, and onevjvedge, 
with the purchases aloft, in readiness for hooking on to the wreck, 
and all the extra securities up that had been given to the masts. As 
for the sloop-of-war, she. was under the very same canvas as that 
with which she had come out from the Dry Tortugas, or her three 
topsails, spanker, and jib; but most of her other sails were loose, 
even to her royals and flying-jibs; though closely gathered into 
their spars by means of the running gear. In a word, every sailor 
would know, at a glance, that the ship was merely waiting for the 


JACK TIEE. 


274 

proper moment to spread her winces, when she would be fljung 
through the water at the top ot her speed. The weather looked 
dirty, and the wind was gradually increasing, threatening to blow 
heavily as the day advanced. 

“Unshackle, unshackle!” shouted Spike to the boatswain, who 
was the first man that appeared on deck. “ The bloody sloop-of- 
war is upon us, and theie is not a moment to lose. We must get 
the brig clear of the ground in the shortest way Ave can, and aban- 
don everything. Unshackle, and cast off, for’ard and aft, men.” 

A few minutes of almost desperate exertion succeeded. No men 
work like sailors, when the last are in a hurry, their efforts being 
directed to counterjicting the squalls, and avoiding emergencies of 
the most pressing character. Thus it was now with the crew of the 
“ Swash.” The clanking of chains lasted but a minute, when the 
parts attached to the anchors were thrust through the hawse-holes, 
or w'ere dropped into the water from other parts of the brig. This 
at once released the vessel, though a great deal remained to be done 
to clear her for wmrking, and to put her in the best trim. 

“ Away with this out-hauler!” again shouted Spike, casting loose 
the main-brails as he did so; “ loose (he iibs!” 

All went on at once, and the “ Swash ” moved away from the 
grave of the poor carpenter with the ease and facility of motion that 
marked all her evolutions. Then the topsail was let fall, and pres- 
ently all the upper squaresails were sheeted home, and hoisted, and 
the fore-lack was hauled aboard. The “ Molly ” was soon alive, 
and jumping into the seas that met her with more power than was 
common, as she drew out from under the shelter of the reef into 
rough water. From the time when Spike gave his first order, to that 
when all his canvas was spread, wms just seven minutes. 

The “ Poughkeepsie,” with her vastlj’’ superior crew, was not 
idle the while. Although the watch below wms not disturbed, she 
tacked beautifully, and stood off the reef, in a line parallel to the 
course of the brig, and distant from her about half a mile. Then 
sail was made, her tacks having been boarded in stays. Spike knew 
the play ot his craft was short legs, for she was so nimble in her 
movements that he believed she could go about in half the time that 
would be required fora vessel of the “ Poughkeepsie’s ” length. 
“ Ready about,” was his cry, therefore, when less than a mile dis- 
tant from the reef— “ ready about, and let her go round.” Round 
the “ Molly ” did go, like a top, being full on the other tack in just 
fifty-six seconds. The movement of the corvette was more stately, 
and somewhat more deliberate. Still, she stayed beautitully, and 
both Spike and the boatswain shook tlieir heads, as they saw her 
coming into the wind with her sails all liftinlJ^and the sheets flow- 
ing. 

“That fellow will fore-reach a cable’s length before he gets 
about!” exclaimed Spike. “ He will prove too much for us at this 
sport! Keep her away, my man — keep the brig away for the pas- 
sage. We must run through the reef, instead ot trusting ourselves 
to our heels in open water.” 

The brig was kept away accordingly, and sheets were eased off, 
and braces- just touched to meet the new line of sailing. As the 
wind stood, it was possible to Jay through the passage on an easy 


JACK TIER. 275 

bowline, though the breeze, which was getting to be fresher than 
Spike wished it to be, promised fb haul more to the southward of 
east, as the day advanced. Nevertheless, this was the “ Swash’s ” 
best point of sailing, and all on board of her had strong hopes of 
her being too much for her pursuer, could she maintain it. Until 
this feeling began lo diffuse itself, in the brig, not a countenance 
was to be seen on her decks that did riot betray intense anxiety abut 
now something like grim smiles passed among the -crew, as jiieir 
craft seemed rather to tl}’^ than force her way through the water, 
toward the entrance of the passage so often adverted to in this nar- 
rative. 

On the other hand, the “ Poughkeepsie ” was admirably sailed 
and handled. Everybody was on deck, and the first lieutenant had 
taken the trumpet. Captain Mull was a man of method, and a 
thorough man-of-war’s man. Whatever he did was done according 
to rule, and with great system. Just as the “ Swash ” was about to 
enter the passage, the drum of the “ Poughkeepsie ” beat to" (juar- 
ters. No sooner were the men mustered, in the leeward, or the star- 
board batteries, than orders were sent to cast loose the guns, and to get 
them ready for service. Owing to the more leeward position of his 
vessel, and to the fact that she always head-reached so much in 
stays. Captain Mull knew that she would not lose much by luffing 
into the wind, or b}'- making half -boards, while he might gain every 
thing. by one well-directed shot. 

The strife commenced by thesloop-of-war firing her weather bow- 
gun, single-shotted, at the “ Swash.” No damage was done, though 
the fore-yard of the brig had a very narrow escape. This experi- 
ment was repeated three times, without even a rope-yarn being car- 
ried away, though the gun was pointed by Wallace himself, and well 
pointedy too. But it is possible. for a shot. to come very near its ob- 
ject and still to do no injury. Such was. the fact on this occasion, 
though the ” ship’s gentleman ” was a good deal mortified by the 
result. Men look so much at success as the test of merit, that few 
pause to inquire into the reasons of failures, though it frequently 
happens that adventures prosper by means of their very blunders. 
Captain Mull now determined on a half-board, for his ship was more 
to leeward than he desired. Directions were given to the officers in 
the batteries to be deliberate, and the helm was put down. As the 
ship shot into the. wind, each gun was fired, as it could be brought 
to bear, until the last of them all was discharged. Then the course 
of the vessel was changed, the helm being righted before the sliip 
had lost her way, and the sloop of war fell off again to her course. 

All this was done in such a short period of time, as scarcely to 
cause the “Poughkeepsie” to lose anything, while, it did the 
“ Swash ” the most serious injury The guns had been directed at 
the brig's spars and sails, Captain Mull desiring no more than to 
capture his chase, and the destruction they produced aloft was such, 
as to indifce Spike and his men, at first, to imagine that the whole 
hamper above their heads was about to come clattering down on 
deck. One shot carried away all the weather foretopmast rigging 
of the brig, and would no doubt have brought about the loss of the 
mast, if another, that almost instantly succeeded, had not cut the 
spar itself in two, bringing down, as a matter of course, everything 


JACK TIER. 


276 

above it. Nearly halt of the mainmast was gouged out of that spar, 
and the gatf was taken tairly out ot its jaws. The foreyard was 
cut in the slings, and various important ropes were carried away in 
different parts of the vessel. 

Flight, under such circumstances, was impossible, unless some 
extraordinary external assistance' was to be obtained This Spike 
saw at once, and he had recourse to the only expedient that remained 
which might possibly yet save him. The guns were still belching 
forth their smoke and flames, when he shouted out the order to put 
the helm hard up. The width of the passage in ■which the vessels 
were was not so great but that he might hope to pass across it, and 
to e’^ter a channel among the rocks, which was favorably placed for 
such a purpose, eie the sloop of-war could overtake him. Whiiher 
that chancel led, what water it possessed, or whether it were not a 
shallow cul-de-sac, were all facts of which Spike was ignorant. The 
circumstances, however, would not admit of an alternative. 

Happily for the execution of Spike’s present desiLm, nothing from 
aloft had fallen into the water, to impede the brig’s way. Forward, 
in particular, she seemed all wreck; her foreyard having come down 
altogether, so as to incumber the forecastle, while her topmast, with 
its dependent spars and gear, was suspended but a short distance 
above. Still, nothing had gone over the side, so as actually to touch 
the water, and the crafi obej^ed her helm as usual. Away she went, 
then, for the lateral opening in the reef just mentioned, driven ahead 
by the pressure of a strong breeze on her sails, which still offered 
large surfaces to the wind, at a rapid rate. Instead of keeping away 
to follow, the ‘1 Poughkeepsie ” maintained her luff, and pist as 
the “Swash” entered the unknown passage, into which she was 
blindly plunging, the sloop-of-war was about a quarter of a mile to 
windward, and standing directly across her stern. Nothing would 
have been easier, now, than for Captain Mull to destroy his chase; 
but humanity prevented his tiring. He knew that her career must 
be short, and he fully expected to see her anchor; when it would 
be easy for him to take possession with his boats. With this expec- 
tation, indeed, he shortened sail, furling topgallant-sails, and haul- 
ing up his courses. By this time, the wind had so much freshened 
as to induce him to think of putting in a reef, and the step now 
taken had a double object in view. 

To the surprise of all on board the man-of-war, the brig continued 
on, until she was fully a mile distant, finding her way deeper and 
deeper among the mazes ot the reef without meeting with any im- 
pediment. This fact induced Captain Mull to order his Paixhans to 
throw their sliells beyond her, by way of a hint to anchor. While 
the guns were getting ready, Spike stood on boldly, knowing it was 
neck or nothing, and beginning to feel a taint revival of hope, as 
he found himself getting further and further from his pursuers, and 
the rocks not fetching him up. Even the men, who had begun to 
murmur at what seemed to them to be risking too much, partook, 
in a slight degree, of the same feeling, and began to execute the 
order they had received, to try to get the launch into the water, 
with some appearance of an intention to succeed. JTeviously, the 
work could scarcely be said to go on at all; but two or three of the 
older seamen now bestirred themselves, and suggestions were made 


JACK TIEK. 


277 

and attended to, that promised results. But it was no easy thing to 
get the launch out of a half-rigged bris?, that had lost her toreyard, 
and which Carried nothing square abatt. A derrick was used in 
common to lift the stern of the boat; but a derrick would now be 
useless aft, without an assistant forward. While these things were 
in discussion under the superintendence of the boatswain, and Spike 
was standing between the knightheads, conding the craft, the sloop- 
ot-war let fly the first of her hollow shot. Dowm came the hurtling 
mass upon tne “ Swash,” keeping every head elevated and all eyes 
looking for the dark object, as it went booming through the air 
above their heads. The shot passed fully a mile to leeward, where 
it exploded. This creat range had been given to the first shot, wdth 
a view to admonish the captain how long he must continue under 
the guns of. the ship, and a^ advice to come to. The second gun 
followed immediately. Its shot was seen to ricochet directly in 
a line with the brig, making leaps of about half a mile in length. It 
struck the water about fifty yards astern of the vessel, bounded 
directly over her decks, passing through the mainsail and some of 
the fallen hamper forward, and exploded about a hundred yards 
ahead. As usually happens with such projectiles, most of the frag- 
ments were either scattered laterally, or went on, impelled by the 
original momentum. 

Ihe effect of this last gun on the crew of the “ Swash ” was in- 
stantaneous and deep. The faint gloamings of hope vanished at 
once, apd a lively consciousness of the desperate nature of their 
condition succeeded in every mind. The launch was forgotten, 
and, after conferring together for a moment, the men Went in a body 
with the boatswain at their head, to the forecastle, and offered a re- 
monstrance to their commander, on the subject of holding out any 
longer/ under circumstances so very hazardous, and which menaced 
their lives m so many different ways. Spike listened to them with 
eyes that fairly glared with fury. He ordered them back to their 
• duty in a vcfice of thunder, tapping the breast of his jacket, where 
he was known to carry revolvers, with a significance that could con- 
vey but one meaning. 

It is wonderful the ascendency that men sometimes obtain over 
their fellows, by means of character, the habits of command and 
obedience, and intimidation. Spike was a stern disciplinarian, rely 
iug on that and ample pay for the unlimited control he often found 
it necessary to exercise over his crew. On the present occasion, his 
people were profoundly alarmed, but habitual deference and sub- 
mission to their leader counteracted the feeling, and held them in 
suspense. They were fully aware of the nature of the position they 
occupied in a legal sense, and were deeply reluctant to increase the 
appearances of crime; but most of them had been extricated from so 
many grave difficulties in former instances, by the coolness, nerve, 
and readiness of the captain, that a latent ray of hope was perhaps 
dimly shining in the rude breast of every old sea-dog among them. 
As a consequence of these several causes they abandoned their re- 
monstrance, for the moment at least, and made a show of returning 
to tiieir duty— though it was in a sullen and moody manner. 

It was easier, however, to make a show of hoisting out the launch, 
than to efiect the object. Tl;is was soon made apparent, on trial, 


JACK TIKK. 


m 

and Spike himself gave the matter up. He ordered the j'awl to be 
lowered^ got alongside, and to be prepared for the reception of the 
crew, by putting into it a small provision ot food and water. All 
this time the brig was rushing madly to leeward, among rocks and 
breakers, without any other guide than that which the visible 
dangers afiorded. Spike knew no more where he was going than 
the meanest man in his vessel. His sole aim was to get away from 
his pursuers, and to save his neck from the rope. He magnified the 
danger of punishment that he really ran, tor he best knew the ex- 
tent and nature of his crimes, ot which the tew that have been laid 
before the reader, while they might have been among the most 
prominent, as viewed through the statutes and international law, 
were tar from the gravest he had committed in the eyes of morals. 

About this time the Senor Montefalderon went forward to confer 
with Spike. The calmness ot this gentleman’s demeanor, the sim- 
plicity and coolness of his movements, denoted a conscience that saw 
no particular ground for alarm. He wished to escape captivity, that 
he might continue to serve his countr}’^, but no other apprehension 
troubled him. 

“ Do you intend to trust yourself in the yawl, Don Esteban?’’ de- 
manded the Mexican, quietly. “ If so, is she not too small to con- 
tain so many as we shall make altogether?” 

Spike’s answer was given in a low voice; and it evidently came 
from a very husky throat. 

“ Speak lower, Don Wan,” he said. “ The boat would be great- 
ly overloaded with all hands in it, especially among the breakers, 
and blowing as it does; but we may leave some of the party behind.” 

” The brig must go on the rocks, sooner or later, Don Esteban; 
when she does, she will go to pieces in an hour.” 

“ 1 expect to hear her strike every minute, senor; the moment she 
does, we must be off. 1 have had my eye on that ship for some 
time, expecting to see her lower her cutters and gigs to board us. 
You will not be out ot the way, Don Wan; but there is no need of * 
being talkative on the subject of our escape.” 

Spike now turned his back on the Mexican, looking anxiously 
ahead, wnth the desire to' get as far into the reef as possible with his 
brig, wiiicli he couded with great skill and coolness. The Senor 
Montefalderon left him. With the chivalry and consideration of a 
man and a gentleman, he went in quest of Mrs. Budd and Biddy. 

A hint sufficed for them, and, gathering together a few necessaries, 
they were in the yawl in the next three minutes. This movement 
was unseen by Spike, or he might have prevented it. His eyes 
were now riveted on the channel ahead, it had been full}'- his 
original intention to make off in the boat the instant the brig struck, 
abandoning not only Don Juan, with Mrs. Budd and Biddy to their 
fates, but most of the crew. A private order had been given to the 
boatswain, and three ot the ablest-bodied among the seamen, each 
and all of wdiom kept the secret with religious fidelity, as it w'as be- 
lieved their own personal safety might be connected with the suc- 
cess of this plan. 

Nothing is so contagious as alarm. It requires not only great 
natural steadiness of nerve, but much acquired firmness, to remain 
unmoved when sudden terror has seized on the minds of those 


JACK TIER. 


279 

around us. Habitual respect had prevented the crew from interfer- 
ing with the movements of the Mexican, who not only descended 
into the boat with his female companions uninterrupted, but also 
took with him the little bag of doubloons which tell to his share 
from the first raising of the schooner. Josh and Jack Tier assisted 
in getting Mrs. Budd and Biddy over the side, and both took their 
own places in the ya\^l as soon as this pious duty was discharged. 
This served as a hint to otliers near at*hand; and man after man 
left his work to steal into the yawl, until every living being had dis- 
appeared from the deck of the “ Swash,” Spike himself excepted. 
The man at the wheel had been the last to desert his post, nor would 
he have done so then, but for a signal from the boatswain, with 
whom he was a favorite. 

It is certain there was a secret desire among the people of the 
“ Swash,” who were now crowded into a boat not large enough to 
contain more than half their number with safety, to push off from 
the brig’s side, and abandon her commander and owner to his fate. 
All had passed so soon, however, and events succeeded each other 
with so much rapidity, that little time was given for consultation. 
Habit kept them in their places, though the appearances around them 
were strong motives tor taking care of themselves. 

Notwithstanding the time necessary to relate the foregoing events, 
a quarter of an hour had not elapsed, from the moment when the 
” Swash ” entered this unknown channel among the rocks, ere she 
struck. No sooner was her helm deserted than she broached-to, 
and Spike was in the act of denouncing the steerage, ignorant of its 
cause, when the brig was thrown broadside-to, on a sharp, angular 
bed of rocks. It was fortunate for the boat, and all in it, that it was 
brought to leeward by the broaching- to of the vessel, and that the 
water was still sufficiently deep around them to prevent the waves 
from breal^ing. Breakers there were, however, in thousands, on 
every side; and the seamen understood that their situation was al- 
most desperately perilous, without shipwreck coming to increase the 
danger. 

The storm itself was scarcely more noisy and boisterous than was 
Spike, when he ascertained the manner in which his people had 
behaved. At first he believed it was their plan to abandon him to 
his fate; but, on rushing to the lee-gangway, Don Juan Montefal- 
deron assured him that no such intention existed, and that he would 
not allow the boat to be cast off: until the captain was received on 
board. This brief respite gave Spike a moment to care for his por- 
tion of the doubloons; and he rushed to his state- room to secure 
them, together with his quadrant. 

The grinding of the brig’s-bottom on the coral announced a speedy 
breaking up of the craft, while her commander w^as thus employed. 
So violent were some of the shocks with which she came down on 
the hard bed in which she was now cradled, that Spike expected to 
see her burst asunder, while he was yet on her decks. The crack- 
ing of timbers told him that all was over with the ” Swash,” nor 
had he got back as far as the gangway with his prize, before he saw 
plainlv that the vessel had broken her back, as it is termed, and 
that her plank-sheer was opening in a way that threatened to permit 
a separation of the craft into two sections, one forward and the 


280 


JACK TIER. 


other aft.. Notwithstandino; all these portentous proofs that the 
minutes of the “ Molly ” were numbered, and the danger that 
existed of his being abandoned by his crew, Spike paused a moment, 
ere he went over the vessel’s side, to take a hasty survey of the reef. 
His object was to get a general idea of the position of the breakers, 
with a view to avoid them. As much of the interest of that which 
is to succeed is connected with these particular dangers, it ma}’ be 
well to explain their character, along with a tew other points of a 
similar bearing. 

The brig had gone ashore fully two miles within the passage she 
had entered, and which, indeed, terminated at the very spot where 
she had struck. The “ Poughkeepsie ” w'as stamling oil and on, in 
the main channel, with her boats in the water, evidently preparing 
to carry the brig in that mode. As for the breakers, they whitened 
the surface of the ocean in all directions around the wreck but two, 
far as the eye coiild reach. The passage in which the “ Pough- 
keepsie ” was standing to and fro was clear of them, of course; and 
about a mile and a half to the northward. Spike saw that he should 
be in open water, or altogether on ihe northern side of the reef, could 
he only get there. The gravest dangers would exist in the passage, 
w’hich led among breakers on all sides, and very possibly among 
rocks so near the surface as absolutely to obstruct the way. In one 
sense, however, the.breaRers were useful. By avoiding them as 
much as possible, and by keeping in the unbroken water, the boat 
would be running in the channels of the reef, and ‘consequenlly 
would be the safer. The result of the survey, short as it was, and 
it did not last a minute, was to give Spike something like a plan; 
and when he went over the side, and got into the boat, it was with 
a determination to work his way out of the reef toils northern edge, 
as soon as possible, and then to skirt it as near as he could, in his 
flight toward the Dry Tortugas. 


CHAPTER XY. 

The screams of rage, the groan, the strife, 

The blow, the gi'asp, the horrid crj’-. 

The panting, throttled prayer for life. 

The dying’s heaving sigh. 

The murderer’s curse, the dead man’s fixed, stiU glare. 

And fear’s and death’s cold sweat— they all are there. 

Matthew Lee. 

It was high time that Captain Spike should arrive when his foot 
touched the bottom of the yawl. The men were getting impatient 
and anxious to the last degree, and the power of Senor Montefal- 
deron to control them was lessening each instant. They heard the 
rending of timber, and the grinding on the coral, even more dis- 
tinctly than the captain himself, and feared that the brig would 
break up while they lay alongside of her, and crush them amid the 
ruins. Then the spray of the seas that broke over the weather-side 
of the brig, fell like rain upon them; and everybody in the boat was 
alreadj’- as wet as if exposed to a violent shower. It was well, there- 
fore, for Spike that he TIeseended into the boat as he did, for another 
minute’s delay might have brought about his own destruction. 


JACK TIER. 


281 


Spike felt a chill at his heait when he looked about him and sa w 
the condition of theyawh So crowded were the stern-sheets idto 
which he had descended, that it was with difficulty he found room 
to place his feet ; it taeini; his intention to steer, Jack was ordered 
to get inio the eyes of the boat, in order to give him a seat. The 
thwarts were crowded, and three or four of the people had placed 
themselves in the very bottom of . the little craft, in order to be as 
much as possible out of the way as well as in readiness to bail out 
water. So seriously, indeed, were all the seamen impressed with 
the gravity of this last duty, that nearly ev-erj man had taken with 
him some vessel 'fit for such a purpose. Rowing was entirely out of 
the question, there being no space for the movement of the arms. 
The yawl was too low in the water, moreover, for such an operation 
in so heavy a sea. In all, eighteen persons were squeezed into a lit- 
tle craft that would have been sufficiently loaded, for moderate 
weather at sea, with its four oarsmen and as many sitters in the 
stern-sheets, with, perhaps, one in the eyes to bring her more on an 
even keel. In other words, she had iwicg-the weight in her, in liv- 
ing freight, that it would liave been thought prudent to receive in 
so small a craft, in an ordinary time, -in or out of a port. In addi- 
tion to tlie human beings enumerated, there was a good deal of 
baggage, nearly every individual’ having hail the forethought to 
provide a few clothes for a change. The food and water did not 
amount to much, no more having been provided than enough for 
lue purposes of the captain, together with the tour men with whom 
it had been his intention to abandon the brig. The effect of all this 
cargo was to bring the yavvl quite low in the water; and every sea^ 
faring man' in her had the greatest apprehensions about her being 
able to float at all when she got out from under the lee of the 

Bwash,” or into the troubled water. Try it she must, however, 
and Spike, in a reluctant and hesitating manner, gave the final order 
to “ Shove off!” 

The yawl carried a lugg, as is usually the case with boats at sea, 
and the first blast of the breeze upon it satisfied Spike that his pres- 
ent enterprise was one of the most dangerous of any in which he 
had ever been enga^d. The puffs of wind were quite as much as 
the boat would bea* but this he did not mind, as he was running 
oft before it, and there was iittlc- danger of the yawl capsizing with 
such a weight in her. It was also an advantage to Irave swih way 
on, to prevent the combing waves from shooting into the boat, 
though the wind itself scarce outstrips the send oi the sea in a stiff 
blow. As the yawl cleared the brig and began to feel the united 
power of the wind and waves, the following short dialogue occurred 
between the boatswain and Spike. 

” 1 dare not keep my eyes off the breakers ahead,” the captain 
commenced, “ and mvist trust to you. Strand, to report wffiat is go- 
ing on among the man-of-war’s men. "What is the ship abouiV” 

” Reefing her topsails just now, sir. All three are on the caps, 
and the vessel is laying-to, in a manner.” 

” And her boats?” 

‘‘ 1 see none, sir— ay, ay, there they come from alongside of her 
in a little fleet! There are four of them, sir, and all are coming 
down before the wind, wing and wing, carrying theiiTuggs reefed.” 


m 


JACK TIER. 


Ours ouglit to be reefed by rights, too, but we dare not stop to 
do it; and these infernal combing seas seem ready to glance aboard 
us with all the way w'e can gather. Sland by to bail, men; we must 
pass through a strip of white water— there is no help for it. God 
send that we go clear of the rocks!” 

All this was tearfully true. The adventurers were not yet more 
than a cable’s length from the brig, and they found themselves so 
completely environed with the breakers as to be compelled to go 
through them. No mau in his senses would ever have come into 
such a place at all, except in the most unavoidable circumstances; 
and it was with a species of despair that the seamen of the yawl 
now saw their little craft go plunging into the foam. 

But Spike neglected no precaution that experience or skill could 
suggest. He had chosen his spot* with coolness and judgment. 
As the boat rose on the seas he looked eagerly ahead, and b}^ giving 
it a timely sheer, he hit a sort of channel, where there was suffi- 
cient w'ater to carry them clear of the rock, and where the bi’eakers 
were less dangerous thandn the shoaler places. The passage lasted 
about a minute; and so serious was it, that scarce an individual 
breathed until it was effected. No human skill could prevent the 
w^ater from combing in over the gunwales; and when the danger 
w'LS passed, the yawl was h third filled with water. There was no 
time or place to pause, but on the little craft was dragged almost 
gunwale to, the breeze coming against the lugg in pulls that 
threatened to take the mast out of her. All hands were bailing; 
and even Biddy used her hands to aid in throwing out the water. 

‘‘ This is no time to hesitate, men,” said Spike, sternly. ” Every- 
thing must go overboard but the food and water. Away vith them 
.at once, and with a will.” 

It was a proof how completely all hands were alarmed ly this, 
the first experiment in the breakers, that not a man stayed his hand 
a single moment, but each threw into the sea, without an instant of 
hesitation, every article he had brought with him and had hoped to 
save. Biddy parted with the carpet-bag, and Senor Montefalderon, 
feeling the importance of example, committed to the deep a small 
writing-desk that he had placed on his kne% The doubloons 
alone remained, sate in a little locker where Spike had deposited 
them along with his own. 

” What news astern, boatswain?” demanded the captain, as soon 
as this imminent danger was passed, absolutely afraid to turn his 
eyes off the dangers ahead for a single instant. ” How come on the 
man-of-war’s men?” 

They are running down in a body toward the wreck, though 
one of their boats does seem to be sheering out of the line, as if 
getting into our wake. It is hard to say, sir, for they are still a 
good bit to windward of the wreck.” 

And the ‘ Molly,’ Strand?” 

“ Why, sir, the ‘ Molly ’ seems to be breaking up fast; as well as 
I can see, she has broke in two just abaft the forechains, and can 
not hold together in any shape at all many minutes longer.” » 

This information drew^ a deep groan from Spike, and the eye of 
every seaman in the boat was turned in melancholy on the object 
they w^ere so fast leaving behind them. The yawl could not be said 


JACK TIER. 


283 


to be sailing very rapidly, considering the power of the wind, which 
was a little gale, for she was much too deep for that, hut she left 
the wreck so fast as already to render objects on board her indis- 
tinct. Everybody saw that, like an over-burdened steed, she had 
more to get along with than she could well bear; and, dependent 
as seamen usually are on the judgment and orders of their superi- 
ors, even in the direst emergencies, the least experienced man in her 
saw thaktheir chances of final escape from drowning were of the 
most doubtful nature. The men looked at each other in a way to 
express their feelings: and the moment seemed favorable to Spike 
to confer with his confidential sea-dogs in private; but more white 
water was also ahead, and it was necessary to pass through it, since 
no opening Avas visible by which to avoid it. He deferred his pur- 
pose, consj^quently, until this danger was escaped. 

On this, occasion Spike saw but little opportunity to select a place 
to get through the breakers, though the spot, as a whole, was not 
of the most dangerous kind. The reader will understand that the 
preservation of the boat at all, in white water, w^gs owing to the 
circumstance that the rocks all around it lay so near the surface of 
the sea as to prevent the possibility of agitating the element very 
seriously, and to the fact that she was near the lee-side of tlie reef. 
Had the breakers been of the magnitude of those which are seen 
where the deep rolling billows of the ocean first meet the weather- 
side of shoals or rocks, a craft of that size, and so loaded, could not 
possibly have passed the first line of while water without filling. 
As it was, however, the breakers she had to contend with Avere 
sufficiently formidable, and they brought with them the certainty 
that the boat was in imminent danger of striking the bottom at any'^ 
moment. Places like those in which Mulford had waded on the 
reef, while it was calm,. would now have proved fatal to the strong- 
est frame, since human powers were insufficient long to Avithstand 
the force of such weaves as did glance over even these shallow's. 

“Lookout!" cried Spike, as the boat again plunged in among 
the white w'ater. “ Keep bailing, men— keep bailing.” 

The men did bail, and the danger was^over almost as soon as eu 
countered. Something like a cheer burst out of the chest of Spike, 
when he saw deeper Avater around him, and fancied he could noAV 
trace a channel that would carry him quite beyond the extent of the 
reef. It was arrested, only htdf uttered, however, by a communication 
from the boatswain, who sat on a midship thwart, bis arms folded, 
and his eye on the brig and the boats. 

“ There goes the ‘ Molly’s ’ masts, sir! Both have gone together; 
and as good sticks w'as they, before them bombshells passed through 
our rigging, as was ever stepped in a keelson.” 

The cheer was changed to something like a groan, while a mur- 
mur of regret passed ttirough the boat. 

“ What news from the man-of-w'ai’s men, boatsw'ain? Do they 
still stand down on a mere wreck?” 

“ No, sir; they seem to give it up, and are getting out their oars 
to pull back to their ship. A pretty time they’ll have of if, too. 
The cutter that gets to windward half a mile in an hour, ag’in such 
a sea, and such a breeze, must be well pulled and better steered. 
One chap, however, sir, seems to hold on,” 


JACK TIER. 


284 

Spike now ventured to look behind him, commanding an experi- 
enced hand to take the helm. In order to do this he was obliged to 
change places with the man he had selected to come aft, which 
brought him on a thwart alongside ot the boatswain and one or two 
other of his confidants. Here a whispered conference took place, 
which lasted several minutes, Spike appearing tc be giving instruc- 
tions to the men. 

By this time the yawl was more than a mile Irom the wreck, all 
the man-of-war boats but one had lowered their sails, and were 
pulling slowly and with great labor back toward the ship, the cut- 
ter that kept "on, evidently laying her course after the yawl, instead 
ot standing on towaid the wreck. The brig was breaking up fast, 
with eve'y'piobability that nothing would be left of her in a tew 
more minutes. As for the yawd, while clear of the white water, it 
got along without receiving many seas aboard, though the men in 
its bottom were kept bailing vdtliout intermission. It appeared to 
Spike that so long as they remained on the reef, and could keep 
clear of breaKers — a mostdifiicult tiling, however — tliey should fare 
belter than if in deeper water, where the swell of the sea, and the 
coaming of the waves, menaced so small and so deep-foaded a craft 
with serious' danger*. As it was, two or three men could barely keep 
the boat clear, working incessantly, and much of the time with a 
foot or two of water in her. 

Josh and Simon had taken their seats, side by side, with that sort 
of dependence and submission that causes the American black to 
abstain from mingling with the whites more than might appear 
seemly. They were squeezed on to one end of the thwart by a 
couple of robust old sea-dogs, who were two of the very men with 
whom Spike had been in consultation. Beneath that very thwart 
was stowed another eorifidant, to' whom communications had also 
been made. These men had sailed long in the ‘ Swash,’ and hav- 
ing been picked up in various ports, from time to time, as the brig- 
had wanted hands, the}^ were of nearly as- many different nations as 
they were persons. Spike had obtained a great ascendency over 
them by habit and authority, and his suggestions were now received 
as a sort of law. As soon as the conference was ended, the captain 
returned to the helm. 

A minute more passed, during which the captain was anxiously 
surveying the reef ahead, and the state of things astern. Ahead 
was more white water — the last before they should get clear of the 
reef; and astern it was now settled that the cutter that held on 
through the dangers dt the place, was in chase of the yawl. That 
Mulford was in her Spike made no doubt; and the thought embit- 
tered even his present calairities. But the moment had arrived for 
something decided. The while water ahead was much more for- 
midable than any they had passed; and the boldest seaman there 
gazed at it with dread. Spike made a sign to the boatswain, and 
commenced the execution ot his dire project. 

“Isay, you Josh,” called out the captain, in the authoritative 
tones that are so familiar to all on board a ship, " pull in that fender 
that is dragging alongside.'’ 

Josh leaned over the gunwale, and reported that there was no 
fender out, A malediction follow^ed, also so familiar to those ac- 


JACK TIER. 


285 

quainted with ships, and the black was told to look again. This 
time, as had been expected, the negro leaned with his head and body 
far over the side ol the yawl, to look for that which had no exist- 
ence, when two of the men beneath the thwart shoved his legs after 
him. Josh screamed, as he found himself going into the water, 
with a sort of confused consciousness of the truth; and Spike called 
out to Simon to “ catch bold of his brother- nigger.” The cook bent 
forward to obey, wiien a similar assault on )iis legs from beneath 
the thwart, sent him headlong after Josh. One of the younger sea 
men, who was not in the secret, sprung up to rescue Simon, who 
grasped his extended hand, when the too generous fellow was 
pitched headlong from the boat. 

All this occurred in less than ten seconds of time, and so unex- 
pectedly and naturally, that not a soul beyond those w^ho w^ere in 
the secret, ^ad the least suspicion it was anything but an accident. 
Some water was shipped, of necessity, but the boat was soon 
bailed free. As for the victims of this vile conspiracy, they disap- 
peared amid the troubled waters of the reef, struggling with each 
other. Each and all met the common fate so much tiie sooner, frorii 
the manner in which they impeded their own efforts. 

The yawl was now relieved from about five hundred pounds of 
the weight it had carried— -Simon weighing two hundred alone, and 
the youngish seaman being large and full. So intense does human 
selfishness get to be, in moments of great emergency, that it is to be 
feared most of those who remained secretly rejoiced that they were 
so far benefited by the loss of their fellows. The Senor Montefal- 
deron was segted on the aftermost thwart, with his legs in the stern- 
sheets, and Consequently with his back toward the negroes, and he 
fully believed that what had happened was purely accfdental. 

“ Let us lower our sail, Don Esteban,” he cried, eagerly, “ and 
save the poor fellows.” 

Something very like a sneer gleamed on the dark countenance of 
the captain, but it suddenly changed to a look of assent. 

'‘Good!” he said, hastily — “ spring forward, Don Wan, and 
lower the sail — stand by the oars, men!” 

Without pausing to reflect, the generous-hearted Mexican stepped 
on a thwart, and began to walk rapidly forward, steadying himself 
by placing his hands on the heads of the men. He was suffered to 
get as far as the second thwart, or past most of the conspirators, 
when his legs were seized from behind. The truth now flashed on 
liim, and grasping two of the men in his front, who knew nothing 
of Spike’s dire scheme, he endeavored to save himself by holding 
to their jackets. Thus assailed, those meu seized others with like 
intentrand an awful struggle filled all that pfft’t of the craft. At 
this dread instant the boat glanced into the white water, shipping 
so much of the element as nearly to swamp her, and taking so wdld 
a sheer as nearly to^ broach-to. This last circumstance probably 
caved her, fearful as was the danger for the moment. Everybody 
in the middle of the yawl was rendered desperate by the amount 
and nature of the danger incurred, and the men from the bottom 
rose in their might, underneath the combatants, when a common 
plunge was made by all who stood erect, , one dragging overboard 
another, each a good deal hastened by the assault from beneath, 


JACK TIER, 


286 

until no less than five were gone. Spike got his helm up, the boat 
fell oft, Rnd away from the spot it flew, clearing the breakers, and 
reaching the northern wall-like margin of the leef at the next in- 
stant. There was now a moment when those who remained could 
breathe, and dared to look behind them. 

The great plunge had been made in w^ater so shoal that the boat 
had barely escaped being dashed to pieces on the coral. Had it not 
been so suddenly relieved from the pressure of near a thousand 
pounds in weight, it is probable that this calamity would have be- 
fallen it, the water received on board contributing so much to weigh 
it down. The struggle between these victims ceased, however, the 
moment they went over. Finding bottom for their feet, they re- 
leased each other, in the desperate hope of prolonging life by \vad- 
ing. Two or three held out their arms, and shouted to Spike to 
return and pick them up. This dreadful scene lasted but a single 
instant, for the waves clashed one after another from his feet, con- 
tinually forcing them all, as they occasionally regained their footing, 
toward the margin of the reef, and finally washing them off into 
deep water. No human power could enable a man to swim back 
to the rocks, once to leeward of them, in the face of such seas, and 
so heavy a blow; and the miserable wretches xlisappeated in suc- 
cession, as their strength became exhausted, in the depths of the 
Gulf. 

Not a word had been uttered while this terrific scene was in the 
course of occurrence; not a wmrd was uttered for some time after- 
ward. Gleams of grim satisfaction had been seen on the counte- 
nances of the boatswain and his associates, when the success of their 
nefarious project was first assured; but they soon disappeared in 
looks of horror, as they witnessed the struggles of the drowning 
men.ifhNeverlheless, human selfishness was strong within them all, 
and none there was so ignorant as not to perceive how much better 
were the chances of the j’^awl now than it had been on quitting the 
wreck. The weight of a large ox had been taken from -it, counting 
that of all the eight men drowned: and as for the water shipped, it 
was soon bailed back again into the sea. Not only, therefore, was 
the yawl in a better condition to resist the waves, but it sailed ma- 
terially faster than it had done before. Ten persons still remained 
in it, however, which brought it down in the water below its proper 
load-line; and the speed of a craft so small was necessarily a good 
deal lessened by the least deviation from its best sailing or rowing 
trim. But Spike’s projects w'ere not yet completed. 

All this time the man-of-wuir’s cutter had been rushing as madly 
through the breakers, in chase, us the yawl had done in I he attempt 
to escape. Mulford was, in fact, on board it; and his mrw fast' 
friend, Wallace, was in command. The latter wished to seize tlie 
traitor, the former to save the aunt of his weeping bride. Both be- 
lieved that they might follow wherever Spike dared to lead. This 
reasoning was more bold than judicious, notwithstanding, since the 
cutter was much larger, and drew twice as much water as the yawd. 
On it came, nevertheless, faring much belter in the white water than 
the little craft it pursued, but necessarily running a much more 
considerable risk of hitting the coral, over which it was glancing 
almost as swiftly as the waves themselves; still it had thus far es- 


.TACK TIER. 


caped— and little did any in it think of the danger. This cutter 
pulled ten oars; was an excellent sea-boat; liad four armed marines 
in it, in addition to its ciew, but carried all through the breakers, 
receiving scarcely a drop of water on board, on account of the 
height ot its wash-boards, and the general qualities of the craft. It 
may be well to add here, that the “Poughkeepsie” had shaken 
out her reefs, and ^ms betraying the impatience of Captain Mull to 
make sail in chase, by firing signal-guns to his boats to bear a hand 
and return. These signals tne three boats. under oars were endeavor- 
ing to obey; but Wallace had got so far to leeward as now to ren- 
der the course he was pursuing the wisest. 

Mrs. Budd and Biddy had seen the struggle in which the ISenor 
Montefalderon bad been lost, in a sort ot stupid horror. Both had 
screamed, as was their wont, though neither probably suspected the 
truth. But the fell designs of Spike extended to them, as well as 
to those whom he had already destroyed. Now the boat was in 
deep water, running along the margin of the reef, the waves were 
much increased in magnitude, and.thecoam of the sea was far more 
menacing to the boat. This wmuld not have been the case had the 
rocks formed a lee; but they did not, running too near the direction 
of the trades to prevent the billows, that got up a mile or so in the 
offing, from sending their sw''ell quite home to the reef. It was this 
swell, indeed, which caused the lineot while water along the north- 
ern margin of the coral, washing on the rocks by a sort of lateral 
ellort, and breaking, as a matter of course. In many places, no 
boat could have lived to pass through it. 

Another corrsideration influenced Spike to persevere. The cut- 
ter had been overhauling him, hand over hand, but since the 3 mwl 
was relieved ot the wmight ot no less than eight men, the difference 
in the rate ot sailing was manifestly diminished. The man-of- 
war's boat drew nearer, but by no means as fast as it had previous- 
ly done. A point was now reached in the trim of the yawl, wnen 
a very few diundreds in weight might make the most important 
change in her favor; and this change the captain was determined to 
produce. By this time the cutter was in deep water, as well as him- 
self, sate through all the dangers of the reef, and sffe was less than 
a quarter of a mile astern. On the whole, she was gaining, though 
so slowly as to require the most experienced eyb to ascertain the 
feet. 

“ Madam Budd,” said Spike, in a hypocritical tone, “ we are in 
great danger, and 1 shall have to ask you to change your seat. The 
boat is too much by the starn, now we’ve got into deep water, and 
your weight amidships would be a great relief to us. Just give 
■your hand to the boatswain, and he will help you to step from 
thwart to thwart, until you reach the right place, when Biddy shall 
follow.” 

Now Mrs. Budd had witnessed the tremendous struggle in which 
so many had gone overboard, but so dull was she ot apprehension, 
and so little disposed to suspect anything one half so monstrous as 
the truth, that she did not hesitate to comply. She was profoundly 
awed by the horrors of the scene through which she was passing, 
the raging billows of the Gulf, as seen from so small a craft, pro- 
ducing a deej impression on her; still a lingering of her most in- 


.TACK TIER. 


288 

veterate afiectation was to be found in her air and language, which 
presenteU a strange medley of besetting weakness, and strong, nat- 
ural, womanly aftection. 

“Certainly, Captain Spike,” she answered, rising, “A craft 
should never go astern, and 1 am quite willing to ballast the boat. 
We have seen such terrible accidents to-day, that all should lend 
their aid in endeavoring to get under way, and in aveivting all pos- 
sible hamper. Onl^ take me to my poor, dear Rosy, Captajn Spike, 
and everything siiall be forgotten that has passed bet ween us. This 
is not a moment to bear malice; and I freely pardon you all and 
everything. The fate of our*unfortiinateJiiend, Mr. Montefalderon, 
should teach us charity, and cause us to prepare for untimely 
ends.” 

All the lime the good widow was making this speech, which she 
uttered in a solemn and oracular sort of manner she^ was moving 
slowly toward the seat the men had prepared tor her, in the middle 
of the boat, assisted vdth the greatest care and attention by the 
boatswain and another of ISpike’s confidants. When on the second 
thwart from aft, and jabout to take her seat, the boatswain cast a 
look behind him, and Spike put the helm down. The boat luffed 
and lurched, of course, and Mrs. Bitdil would probably have gone 
overboard to leeward, by so sudden and violent a change, had not 
the impetus thus received been aided by the arms ot the men who 
held her two hands. The plunge she' made into the water was deep, 
lor she was a woman ot great weight tor her stature. Still, she was 
not immediately gotten rid ot. Even at that dread instant, it is prob- 
able that the miserable woman did not suspect the truth, for she 
grasped the hand of tlie boatswain with the tenacity of a vise, and, 
thus dragged on the surface ot the boiling surges, she screamed 
aloud tor Spike to save her. Of all who had yet been sacrificed to 
the captain’s selfish wish to save himselt, this was the first instance 
in which any had been heard to utter a sound after falling into the 
sea. The appeal shocked even the rude beings around her, and 
Biddy chiming in with a powerful appeal to save the missus!” 
added to the piteous nature ot the scene. 

“ Cast ofl: her hand,” said Spike reproachfully, “ sbe’ll swamp 
the boat by her struggles— get .rid ot her at once! Cutber fingers 
oft if she won’t let go!” 

The instant these brutal orders were given, and that in a fierce, 
inipatient tone, the voice of Biddy was b^eard no more. The truth 
forced itself on her dull imagination, and she sat a witness of the 
terrible scene, in mute despair. The struggle did not last long. The 
boatr wain drew his knite across the wrist of the hand that grasped 
his own, one shriek was heard, and the boat plunged into the trough 
of a sea, leaving the form ot poor Mrs. Budd struggling with the 
wave on its summit, and amid the foam of its crest. This was the 
last that was ever seen of the unfortunate relict. 

“ The boat has gained a good deal by that last discharge of car- 
go,” said Spike to the boatswain, a minute after they bad gotten 
rid of the struggling woman — “ she is much more lively, and is get- 
ting nearer to .her load-line. If we can bring her to that, 1 shall 
have no fear of the man-of-war’s men; for this yawl is one ot the 
fastest boats that ever floated. ” 


JACK TIER. 


S89 


** A very little now, sir, would bring us to our true trim.” 

“Ay, we must get rid ol more cargo. Come, good woman,” 
turning to Biddy, with whom he did not think it worth his while to 
use much circumlocution, “ yojir turn is next. It’s the maid’s duly 
to follow her mistress.” 

“ 1 know'd it must come,” said Biddy, meekly. “ If there was 
no mercy tor the missus, little could 1 look for. But ye’ll not tak 3 
the life of a Christian woman widout giving her so much as one 
minute to say her prayers?” 

“ Ay, pray away,” answered Spike, his throat becoming dry and 
husky, for, strange to say, the submissive quiet of the Irishwom- 
an, so different from the struggle he had anticipated wilh her, ren- 
dered him more reluctant to proceed than he had hitherto been in 
all of that terrible day As Biddy knelt in the bottom of the stern- 
sheets, Spike looked behind him, for the double purpose of escap- 
ing the paiil»ful spectacle at his feet, and that of ascertaining how 
his pursuers came on. The last still gained, though very slowly, 
and doubts began to come over the captain’s mind whether he could 
escape such enemies at all. lie was too deeply committed, how- 
ever, to recede, and it was most desirable to get rid of poor Bidd.y, 
if it were tor no other motive than to shut her mouth. Spike even 
fancied that some idea of what had passed was entertained b}'- those 
in the cutler. There was evideully a stir in that boat, and two 
forms that he had no difficulty now in recognizing as those of W allace 
and Mulford, were standing on the grating in the eyes of the cutter, 
or forward of the foresail. The former appeared to have a musket 
in his hand, and the other a glass. The last circumstance admon- 
ished him that all that was now done would be done before danger 
ous witnesses. It was too late to draw back, how'ever, and the 
captain turned to look for the Irishwoman. 

Biddy arqse from her knees, just as Spike withdrew his eyes 
from his pursuers. The boatswain and another confidant were in 
readiness to cast the poor creature into the sea, the moment their 
leader gave the signal. The intended victim saw and understood 
the arrangement, and she spoke earnestly and piteously to her mur 
derers. 

“ It’s not wanting will be violence!” said Biddy in a quiet tone, 
but v.'ith a saddened countenance. “ 1 know it’s my turn, and 1 
will save yer sowlsfrom a part of ihebuidenof this great sin. God, 
and His Divine Son, and the Blessed Mother of Jesus have mercy 
on me if it be wrong; but 1 would far radder jump into the saa 
widout having the rude hands ol man on me, than have the dread- 
ful sight of the missus done over ag’in. It’s a fearful thing is 
wather, and sometimes we have too little of it, and sometimes more 
than we want — ” 

“ Bear a'liand, bear a hand, good woman,” interrupted the boat- 
swain, impatiently. “ We .must clear the boat of you, and the 
sooner it is done the better it will be tor all of us.” 

“ Don’t grudge a poor morthal halt a minute of life, at the last 
moment,” answered Biddy. “It’s not long that I’ll throuble ye, 
and so no more need be said.” 

The poor creature then got on the quarter of the boat, without 
any one’s touching her; there she placed herself with her legs out- 
10 


290 


JACK TIER. 


board, while she sat on the gunwale. She gave one moment to the 
thought of arranging her clothes witb womauly decency, and then 
she paused to gaze with a fixed eye and pallid cheek on the foam- 
ing wake that marked the rapid course ot the boat. The troughs 
of the sea seemed less terrible lo her than their combing crests, and 
she waited for the boat to descend into the next. 

*‘God forgive 3 ’'e all this deed, as 1 do! ’ said Biddy, earnestly; 
and bending her person forward, she tell, as it might be “ without 
hands,” into the gulf of eternity. Though all strained their eyes, 
none of the men. Jack Tier excepted, ever saw more of Biddy Noon. 
Nor did Jack see much. He got a frightful glimpse of an arm, 
however, on the summit of the wave, but the motion of the boat 
was too swift^ and the water of the ocean too troubled, to admit of 
aught else. 

A long pause succeeded this event. Biddy’s quiet submission to 
her fate had produced more impression on her murderers than the 
desperate, but unavailiag, struggles of those who had preceded her. 
Tims it is ever with men. When opposed, the demon within blinds 
them to consequences as well as to their duties; but, unresisted, the 
silent influence ot the image of God makes itself felt, and a better 
spirit begins to prevail. There was not one in that boat who did 
not, for a brief space, wish that poor Biddy had been spared. With 
most, that feeling, the last of human kindness the}’’ ever knew, 
lingered until the occurrence of the dread catastrophe which, so 
shortly after, closed the scene of this state ot being on their eyes, 

“Jack Tier,” called out Spike, sonie five minutes after Biddy 
was drowned, but not until another observation had made it plainly 
apparent to him that the man-of-war’s men still continued to draw 
nearer, being now not more than fair musket- shot astern. 

“ Ay, ay, sir,” answered Jack, coming quietly out of his hole, 
from forward of the mast, and moving aft as if indifierent to the 
danger, by stepping lightly from thwart to thwart, until he reached 
the stern-sheets. 

” It is yoiir turn, little Jack.” said Spike, as if in a sort ot sor- 
rowful submission to a necessity that, knew no law, “ we can not 
spai’e you the room. ’ ’ 

“ 1 have expected this, and am ready. Let me have my own 
way, and 1 will cause you no trouble. Poor Biddy has taught me 
how to die. Before 1 go, however, Stephen Spike, 1 must leave you 
this letter,. It is wriltertby myself, and addressed to you. When 
1 am gone, read it, and think well of what it contains. And now, 
may a merciful God pardon the sins of both, through love for His 
Divine Son. 1 forgive you, Stephen; and should you live to escape 
from those who are now bent on hunting you to the death, let this 
day cause you no grief on my account. Give me but a moment of 
time, and 1 v/ill cause ^mu no trouble.” 

Jack now stood upon the seat ot the stern -sheets, balancing him- 
self witb one foot on the stern of the boat. He waited until tlie 
yawl had risen to the summit of a wave, when he looked eagerly for 
the man-of-war’s cutter. At that moment she was lost to view in 
the trough of the sea. Instead ot springing overboard, as all ex- 
pected, haasked another instant ot delay. The yawl sunk into the 
trough itself, and rose on the succeeding billow. Then he saw tho 


JACK TIEK. 


291 


cutter, and Wallace and Mulford standing; on its bows. He waved 
bis hat to them, and sprung high into the air, with the intent to 
make himself seen; when he came down, the boat had shot her 
length away trom the place, leaving him to budet with the waves. 
Jack now managed admirably, swimming lightly and easily, but 
keeping his eyes on the crests ot the waves, with a view to meet the 
cutter. Spike now-saw this well-planned project to avoid death, 
and regretted, his own reinissness in not making sure of Jack. 
Everybody in the yawl was eagerly looking alter the form 5t 
Tier. 

“ There h© is, on the comb of that sea, rolling over like a keg!” 
cried the boatswain. 

‘‘ He’s through it,’* answered Spike, “ and swimming with great 
strength and cooluess.” 

Several of the men started up involuntarily and simultaneously 
to look, hitting I heir shoulders and bodies together. Distrust was 
at its most painful height; and bull-dogs do not spring at the ox’s 
muzzle more fiercely than those six men throttled each other. 
Oaths, curses, and appeals for Help succeeded; each man endeav- 
oring, in his frenzied efforts, to throw all the others overboard, as 
the onl}^ means of saving himself. Plunge succeeded plunge; and 
when that combat ot demons ended, no one remained ot them all 
but the boatswain. 8piEe had taken no share in the struggle, look- 
ing on in grim satisfaction, as the Father of Lies may be supposed 
to regard all human strife, hoping good to himself, let the result be 
what it might to others. Ot the five men who thus went overboard, 
not one escaped. Thej- drowned each other by continuing their 
maddened conflict in an element unsuited to their natures. 

JSfol so with Jack Tier. His leap had been seen, and a dozen eyes 
in the cutter watched for his person, as that boat came foaming down 
before the wind. A shout of “There he is!’’ from Mulford, suc- 
ceeded; and the little fellow was caught by the hair, secured, and 
tlien hauled into the boat by the second lieutenant of the “ Pough- 
keepsie “ and our jmung mate. 

Others in the cutter had noted the incident of the hellish fight. 
The fact was communicated to Wallace, and Mulford said, “That 
yawl will outsail this loaded cutter with only two men in it.” 

“ Then it is time to try what virtue there is in lead,” answered 
Wallace. Marines, come forward, and give the rascal a volley.” 

The volley was fired; one ball passed through the head of the 
boatswain, killing him dead on the si)Ot. Another went through 
the body ot Spike. The captain fell in the stern-sheets, and the 
boat instantly broached-to. 

The water that came on board apprised Spike fully of.tbe state in 
which he was now placed and by a desperate etforl, he clntchcd 
the tiller, and got the yawl again before the wind. This could not 
last, however. Little by little his hold relaxed, until his liand re- 
linquished its grasp altogether, and the wounded man sank into the 
bottom of the stern-sheets, unable to raise even his head. Again the 
boat broacbed-to. Every sea now sent its water aboard, and the 
yawl would soon have filled, had not the cutter come glancing 
down past it, and rounding-lo under its lee, secured the prize. 


JACK TIEE, 


'm 


CHAPTER X\l. 

Man hath a weary pilgrimage, 

• As through the world he wends; 

On every stage", fx'om youth to age, 

• Still discontent attends; 

With heaviness he casts his eye 
Upon the road before, 

And still remembers with a sigh 
The days that are no more. 

Southey. 

It has now^become necessary to advance the time three entire 
days, and to change the scene to Key West. As this latter place 
limy not be known to the woild at large, it may be well to explain 
that it is a small seaport, situate on one of the'largest of the many 
low islands that dot the Florida Reef, that has risen into notice, or 
indeed into existence as a town, since the acquisition of the F loridas 
by the American republic. For many years it wms the resort of tew 
besides wreckers, and those who live by the business dependent on 
the rescuing and repairing of stranded vessels, not forgetting the 
salvages. When it is remembered that the greater portion of the 
vessels that enter the Gulf of Mexico stand close along this reef, 
before the trades, for a distance varying from one to two hundred 
miles, and that nearly everything wdiich quits it, is obliged to beat 
down i’s rock}’’ coast in the Gulf Stream for the same distance, one 
is not to be surprised that the wrecks, which so constantly occur, 
can supply the wants of a considerable population. To live at Key 
^Vest is the next thing to being at sea. The place has sea air, no 
other water than such as is preserved in cisterns, and no soil, or so 
little as to render even a head of lettuce a rarity, 'liirtle is abun- 
dant, and the business of “tuitling” forms an occupation additional 
to that of wrecking. As ndght be expected, in such circumstances, 
a potato is a far more precious thing than a turtle’s egg, and a sack 
of the tubers would probably be deemed a sufficient remuneration 
for enough of the materials of callipash and callipee to feed all the 
aldermen extant. 

Of late years, the government of the United Slates has turned its 
attention to the capabilities of the Florida Reef, as an advanced 
naval station— a sort of Downs, or St. Helen’s Roads, for the West 
Indian seas. As yet little has been done beyond making the pre- 
liminary surveys, but the day is not ynobably very distant when 
fleets will lie at anchor among the islets described in our earlier 
chapters, or garnish the fine waters of Key West. For a long time 
it was thought that even frigates would have a difficulty in entering 
and quitting the port of the latter, but it is said that recent explora- 
tions have discovered channels capable of admitting anything that 
floats. Still, Key West is a town yet in its chrysalis state, possess- 
ing the promise rather than the fruition of the prosperous days wdiich 
are in reserve. It may be well to add, that it lies a very little north 
of the 24th degree of latilude, and in longitude quite five degrees 
west from W ashington. Until the recent conquests in Mexico, it 


JACK TIEE. 


293 


was the most southern possession of the American government, on 
the eastern side of the continent; Cape St. Lucas, at tlie extremity 
of Lower California, however, being two degrees further south. 

It will give the foreign reader a more accurate notion of the char- 
acter of Key West, if we mention a fact of quite recent occurrence. 
A very few weeks after the closing scenes of this tale, the town in 
question _ was, in a great measure, washed away! A hurricane 
brought in the sea upon all these islands and reefs, whaler running 
in swift currents over places that, within the memory of man, w^ere 
never before submerged. The lower part of Key West was con- 
verted into a raging sea, and everything in that quarter of tiie place 
disappeared. The foundation being of rock however, when the 
ocean retired the island came into view again, and industry and en- 
terprise set to work to repair the injuries. 

The government has established a small hospital for seamen at 
Key West. Into one of the rooms of the building thus appropri- 
ated. our riarrative must nowcoricluct the reader. It contained but a 
single patient, and that was Spike. He was on his narrow bed, 
which was to be but the precursor of a still narrower tenement~the 
grave. In the room with the dying man were two females, in one 
of who.'ii our readers will at once recognize the person of Rose 
Budd, dressed in deep mourning for her aunt. At first sight, it is 
probable that a casual spectator would mistake the second female 
for one of the Ordinary nurses of the place. Her ’attire was well 
enough, though worn awkwardly, and as if its owner w’ere not ex- 
actly at ease in it. She had the air of one in her best attire, who 
was unaccustomed to be dressed above the most common mode. 
What added to the singularity of her appearance, was the fact that, 
wdiile she wore no cap, her hair had been cut into short, gray bris- 
tles, instead of being long and turned up, as is usual with females. 
To give a sort of climax to this uncouth appearance, this stiange- 
looking creature chewed tobacco. 

The woman in question, equivocal as might be her exterior, w^as 
employed in one of the commonest avocations of her sex— that of 
sewing. She held in her hand a coarse garment, one of Spike’s, in 
fact, which she seemed to be intently busy in mending; although 
the work was of a quality that invited the use of the palm and sail- 
needle, rather than that of the th/mble and the smaller implement 
knowm to seamstresses, the woman appeared awkward in her busi- 
ness, as if her coarse-looking and dark hands refused to lend them- 
selves to an occupation so feminine. Neveriheless, there were 
touches of a purely w^omanly character about this exti’aordinary 
person, and touches that particularly attracted the attention, and 
awakened the synipalhy of the gentle Rose, her companion. Tears 
occasionally struggled out from beneath her eyelids, crossed her 
dark, sun-burned cheek, and fell on the coarse canvas garment that 
lay in her lap. It was after one of these sudden and strong exhibi- 
tions of feeling that Rose approached her, laid her owui little, fair 
hand, in a friendly way, though unheeded, on the other’s shoulder, 
and spoke to her in her kindest and softest tones. 

“ I do really think he is reviving. Jack,” said Rose, “ and that 
you may yet hope to have an intelligent conversation wilh him.” 

” They all agree he rmtst die*,” answered Jack Tier— for it was he 


J2tCK TIER. 


294 

appealing in the gail) of his proper sex, after a disguise tliat had 
now lasted fully twenty years — “ and he will never know who 1 
am, and that 1 lordve him. He must think of me in another world, 
though he isn’t able to do it in this; hut it would be a great relief 
to his soul to know that 1 forgive him.” 

“ To be sure, a man must like to take a kind leave of his own 
wife before he closes his eyes forever; and 1 dare say it would be a 
great relief to you to tell him that you have forgotten his desertion 
of you, and all the hardships it has brought.upon you in searching 
for him, and in earning your own livelihood as a common sailor.” 

” 1 shall not tell him 'Vwe- forgotten it, Miss Rose; that would be 
untrue--and there shall be no nmre deception between us ; but 1 
shall tell him that I forgive him, as'i hope God will one day forgive 
me all mg sins.” 

” It is, certainly, not a light offense to desert a wife in a foreign 
land, and then to seek to deceive another woman,” quietly ob- 
served Rose. 

” He’s a willian!” muttered the wife; ” but— but— ” 

‘‘ You forgive him. Jack — yes, I’m sure you do. You are too 
good a Christian to refuse to forgive him.” 

‘‘ I’m a woman a’ter all. Miss Rose; and that, 1 believe, is the 
truth of it. 1 suppose f ought to do as you say, for the reason you 
mention; but I’m his wife — and once he loved me, though that has 
long been over.’ When I first knew Stephen, I’d the sort of feelin’s 
you speak of, and was a very different creatur’ from what you see 
me to-day. Change comes over us all with years and sufferin’.” 

Rose did not answer, but she stood looking intently at the 
speaker more than a minute. Change had, indeed, come over her, 
if she had ever possessed the power to please the fancy of any liv- 
ing man. Her features had alwa};^- seemed diminutive and mean 
for her assumed sex, as her voice was small and cracked; but, 
making every allowance for the probabilities. Rose found it diffi- 
cult to imagine that Jack Tier had ever possessed, even under the 
high advantages of youth and innocence, the attractions so com- 
mon lo her sex. Her skin had acquired the tanning of the-sea; the 
expression of her face had become hard and worldly; and her 
habits contributed to render those natural consequences of exposure 
and toil even more than usually^marked and decided. By saying 
‘‘ habits,’- however, we do not mean that Jack had ever drunk to 
excess, as happens with so many seamen, for this would have been 
doing her injustiee, but she smoked and ciiewed— practices that in- 
toxicate in another form, and lead neatly as many to the grave as, 
excess in drinking. Thus all the accessories about this singular be- 
ing, partook of the character of her recent life and duties. Her 
walk was between a waddle and a seaman’s roll; her hands were 
discolored with tar, and had got to be full of kuucyes, and even 
her feet liad degenerated into that flat, broad-toed form that, per- 
haps, sooner distinguishes caste, in connection with outward ap- 
pearances, than any other physical peculiarity. Yet this being 7iad 
once been young — had once been even fair, and had once possessed 
that feminine air and lightness of form, that as often belongs to the 
youthful American of her sex, perhaps, as to the girl of any other 
nation on earth. Rose continued to gaze at her companion for 


JACK TIER. ' 295 

some lime, when she walked musingly to a window that looked out 
upon tlie port. 

“ I am not certain whether it w6uld do him good or not to see 
this sight,'’ she said, addressing the wile kindly, doubtful of the 
effect of her words even on the latter. “ But here are the sloop- of- 
war, and several other vessels.” 

” Af, she is there; but never will his foot be put on board the 
‘ Swash ’ ag’iu. When he bought that bri" 1 was siill young, and 
agreeable to him; and he gave her my maiden name, which was 
Mary, or Molly Swash. But that is all changed; 1 wonder he did 
not change the name with his change of teelin’s.” 

” Then you did really sail in the brig in former times, and knew 
.the seaman whose name you assumed?” 

” Many years. Tier, with whose name 1 made free, on account 
of his size, and some resemblance to me in form, died under my 
care; and his protection fell into my hands, which first put the no- 
tion into my head of hailing as his representative. Yes, 1 knew Tier 
in the brig, and we were left ashore at the same time; 1, intention- 
ally, 1 make no question; he, because btephen Spike was in a hurry, 
and did not choose to wail for a man. The poi>r fellow caught tbe 
yellow fever tbe very next day, and did not live eigbt-and-forty 
hours. So the world goes; them that wish to live, die; and them 
that wants to die, live!” 

” You have had a hard time for one of your sex, poor Jack — 
quite twenty years a sailor, did you not tell me?” 

” Every day of it. Miss Kose— and bitter years have they been; 
for the whole of that time have 1 been in chase of my husband, 
keeping my own secret, and slaving like a horse tor a livelihood.” 

‘‘You could not have been old when he left— that is, when you 
parted.” 

“ Call it by its true name, and say at once, when he desarted me. 
I was under thirty by two or three years, and was still like my 
own sex to look at. All that is changed since; but I was comely 
then.'' 

‘‘ TF% did Captain Spike abandon you. Jack? you have never 
told me that." 

‘‘ Because he fancied another. And ever since that time he has 
been fancying others, instead of remembering me. Had he got 
yoUy Miss Rose, I think he would have been content for the rest of 
iris days.” 

“ Be certain, Jack, I should never have consented to marry Cap- 
tain Spike.” 

‘‘ You’re well out of bis hands,” answered Jack, sighing heav- 
ily, which was the most feminine thing she had done during the 
whole conversation, ” well out of his hands — and God be praised 
it is so. He should have died, before 1 would let him carry you 
off the island— husband or no husband.” 

‘‘ It might have exceeded your power to prevent it under other 
circumstances. Jack.” 

Rose now continued looking out of the window in silence. Her 
thoughts reverted to her aunt and Biddy, and tears rolled down her 
cheeks as she remembered ihe love of one, and the fidelity ol the 
other. Tlieir horrible fate had given her a shock that, at first, men- 


JACK TIER. 


296 

aced her with a severe fit of illness; but her strong, good sense, and 
excellent constitution, both sustained by her piety and Harry’s 
iranly tenderness, had brought her through the danger, and left lier 
as the reader now sees her, struggling witii her own griefs, in order 
to be of use to the still more unhappy woman who had so singu- 
larly become her friend and companion. 

The reader will readily have anticipated that Jack Tier had 
early made the females on board the “ Swash ” her confidantes. 
Rose had known the outlines of her history from the first few days 
they were at sea together, which is the explanation of the visible 
intimacy that had caused Mulford so much surprise. Jack’s mo- 
tive in making his revelations might possibly have been tinctured 
with jealousy, but a desire to save one as young and innocent as 
Rose was at its bottom. Few persons but a wife would have sup- 
posed our heroine could have been in any danger from a lover like 
Spike; but Jack saw him with the eyes of her own youth, and of 
past recollections, rather than with those of truth. A movement of 
the wounded man first drew Rose from the window. Drying her 
eyes hastily, she turned toward him, fancying she might prove the 
better nurse of the two, notwithstanding Jack’s greater interest in 
the patient. 

“ What place is this— and why am 1 here?” demanded Spike, 
with more strength of voice than could have been expected, after 
all that had passed. “ This is not a cabin— not the ‘ Swash ’ — it 
looks like a hospital.” 

‘‘ ft is a hospital, Captain Spike,” said Rose, gently drawing near 
the bed ; ” you have been hurt, and have been brought to Key West 
and placed in the hospital. 1 hope you feel better, and that you 
Buffer no pain.” 

“My head isn’t right — 1 don’t know — everything seems turned 
round with me — perhaps it will all come out as it should. I begin 
to remember — where is my brig?” 

” Sue is lost on the rocks. The seas have broken her into frag- 
ments.” 

” That’s melancholy news, at any rate. Ah! Miss Rose! God 
bless you— I’ve had terrible dreams. Well, it’s pleasant to be among 
friends — what creature is that— where does she come from?” 

” That is Jack Tier,” answered Rose, steadily. ” She turns out 
to be a woman, and has put on her proper dress, in order to attend 
on you during your illness. Jack has never left your bedside since 
we have been here.” 

A long silence succeeded this revelation. Jack’s eyes twinkled, 
and she hitched her body half aside, as if to conceal her features, 
where emotions that were unusual were at work with the muscles. 
Rose thought it might be well to leave the man and wife alone — 
and she managed to get out of the room unobserved.. 

Spike continued to gaze at the strange looking female, who was 
now his sole companion. Gradually his recollection returned, and 
with it the full consciousness of his situation. He might not have 
been fully aware of the absolute certainty of his approaching death, 
but he must have known that -his wound was of a very grave char- 
acter, and that the result might early prove fatal. Still that strange 
and unknown figure hauutkl him; a figure that was so different 


JACK TIER. 297 

from any he had ever seen before, and whicli, in spite of its present 
dress, seemed to belong quite as much to one sex as to the other. 
As for Jack— we call Molly, or Mary Swash by her masculine ap- 
pellation, not only because it is more familiar, but because the oilier 
nanae seems really out of place, as applied to such a person— as for 
Jack, then, she sat with her face half averted, thumbing the can- 
vas, and endeavoring to ply the needle, but perfectly mute. She 
was conscious that Spike’s eyes were on her; and a lingering feel- 
ing of her sex told her how much time, exposure, and circum- 
stances had changed her person— and she would ijladly have hidden 
the defects in her appearance. 

Mary Swash was the daughter as well as the wife of a ship-master. 
In her youth, as has been said before, she had even been pretty, 
and down to the day when her husband deserted her, she \vouid 
have been thought a female of a comely appearance rather than the 
reverse. Her hair in particular, though slightly coarse, perhaps, 
had been rich and abundant; and the change from the long, dark, 
shining, flowing locks whicli she still possessed in her thirtieth 3 ’ear, 
to the short, gray bristles that now stood exposed without a cap, or 
covering of any sort, was one very likely to destroy all identity of 
appearance. Then Jack had passed from what might be called 
youth to the verge of old age, in the interval that she had been sep- 
arated from her husband. Her shape had changed entirely; her 
complexion V^is utterl}'' gone; and her features, always unmeaning, 
though feminine and suitable to her sex, had become hard, ana 
slightly coarse. Still there was something of her former self about 
Jack that bewildered Spike; and his eyes continues fastened on her 
for quite a quarter of an hour in profound silence. 

“ Give me some water,” said the wounded man, “ I wish some 
water to drink.” 

Jack arose, filled a tumbler and brought it to the side of the bed. 
Spike took the glass and drank, but the whole time his eyes were 
riveted on the strange nurse. When his thirst was appeased, he 
asked — 

‘‘ Who are you? How came you here?” 

“lam your nurse. It is common to place nurses at the bedsides 
of the sick.” 

“ Are you man or woman?” 

“ That is a question 1 hardly know how to answer. Sometimes 
I think myself each; sometimes neither.” 

“ Did 1 ever see you before?” 

“ Often, and quite lately. 1 sailed with you in your last voyage.” 

“ You ! That can not be. If so, what is your name?” 

“ Jack Tier.” 

A long pause succeeded this announcement, which induced Spike 
to muse as intently as his condition would allow, though the truth 
did not yet flash on his understanding. At length the bewildered 
man again spoke. 

Avoyou Jack Tier?” he said slowly, like one who doubted. 

“ Yes — 1 now see the resemblance, and it was that which puzzled 
me. Are they so rigid in this hospital that you have been obliged 
to put on woman’s clothes in order to lend me a helping hand?” 

“lam dressed as you see, and for good reasons.” 


298 


JACK TIER. 


“ But .lack Tier run, like that rascal Mulford— ay, 1 remember 
now; you were in the boat wdieu 1 overhauled you all on the reet. ” 

“ Very true; 1 was in the boat. But 1 never run, Stephen Spike, 
It was you "wdio abandoned on the islet in the Gulf, and that 
makes the second time in your life that you left me ashore, when it 
was your duty to carry me to sea.” 

“ The first time 1 was in a hurry, and could not wait for you ; 
this last time you took sides with the w('men. But for your inter- 
ference, 1 should have got Rose, and married her, and all would 
now have been well with me.” 

This was an aw'kward announcement for a man to make to his 
legal wufe. But after all .lack had endured, and all Jack had seen, 
during the late voyage, she was not to be overcome by this avowal. 
Her self-command extended so far as to prevent any open mani- 
festation of emotion, however much her feelings were excited. 

” I took sides with the women, because I am a woman myself,” 
she answered, speaking at length with decision, as if determined to 
bring matters to a head at once. ” ft is natural for us all to take 
si es with our kind.” 

” You a wmman. Jack! That is very remarkable. Since when 
have you hailed for a woman? You have shipped with me twice, 
and each time as a man— though I’ve never thought you able to do 
seaman’s duty.” 

” Nevertheless, 1 am what you see; a woman born and educated; 
one that never had on man’s dress until 1 kn.ew you. Fott supposed 
me to be a man, when 1 came off to you in theskifi to the eastward 
of Biker’s island, but 1 was then w’hat you now see,” 

” 1 begin to understand matters,” rejoined the invalid, musingly. 
“ Ay, ay, it opens on me; and 1 now^ see how it was you made 
such fair weather with Madcm Budd and pretty, pretty Rose. Rose 
is pretty. Jack; you must admit tJiat, though you be a woman.” 

” Rose is pretty — 1 do admit it; and what is better. Rose is good.” 
It required a heavy draft on Jack’s justice and magnanimity, how- 
ever, to make this concession. 

” And you told Rose and Madam Budd about your sex; and that 
was the reason they took to you so on the v’y'ge?” 

“ 1 told them who 1 w as, and \vhy L went abroad as a man. They 
know my whole story.” 

” Did Rose approve of your sailirfg under false colors, Jack?” 

*‘ Y’ou must ask that of Rose herself. My story made her my 
friend; but she never said anything for or against my disguise.” 

” It was no great disguise, 'a’ter all. Jack. Now' jmu’re fitted 
out in your own clothes, you’ve a sort of half-rigged look; one 
would be as likely to set you dowm for a man under jury-canvas, as 
for a woman.” 

Jack made no answer to this, but she sighed very heavily. As for 
Spike himself, he was silent for some little time, not only from ex- 
haustion, but because he suffered pain from his wound. The needle 
was diligently but awkwardly plied in this pause. 

Spike’s ideas were still a little contused; but a silence and rest of 
a quarter of an hour cleared them materially. At the end of that 
time he again asked for water. When he had drunk, and Jack w^as 
once more seated, with his side-face toward him, at work with the 


JACK TIER. 


290 


needle, the captain gazed long and intently at this strange woman. 
It happened that the profile of Jack pieserveei more of the resem- 
blance to her former self than the full face; and it was this resem- 
blance that now^ attracted Spike’s attention, though not the smallest 
suspicion of the truth yet gleamed upon him. He saw something 
that was familiar, though he could not even tell what that some- 
thing was, much less to what or whom it bore any resemblance. At 
length he spoke. 

“1 w’^as told that Jack Tier was dead,” he said, " that he took 
the fever, and was in his grave within eight-and-forty hours after 
we sailed. That was what they told me of Mm.'’ 

“ And what did they tell you of your own wife, Stexjhen Spike — 
she that you left ashore at the time Jack was left?” 

” They sdid^he did not die tor three years later. I hearijof her 
death at Hew Ovleens, three years later.” 

” And how could you leave her ashore—she, your true and law- 
ful wife?” 

” It was a bad thing,” answered Spike, who, like all other mor- 
tals, regarded his own past career, now that he stood on the edge of 
the grave, very difierently from whai he had regarded it in the 
hour of his health and strength. ‘‘ Yes, it was a very bad thing; 
and 1 wish it was ondone. But it is too late now. She died of the 
fever, too— th^'s some comfort; had she died of a broken heart, 1 
could not have forgiven myselE. Molly was not without her faults 
— gieat faults, 1 considered them; but, on the ^vliole, Molly was a 
good creatur’.” 

” You liked her, then, Stephen Spike?” 

” 1 can truly say that when 1 married Molly, and old Captain 
Swash put his da’ghler’s hand into mine, that the wmman wasn’t 
living who was better in my judgment, or handsomer in my eyes.” 

‘‘Ay, ay — when you married her \ but how was it a’terward? — 
when you was tired of her, and saw another that was fairer in your 
eyes?” 

‘‘ I desarted her; and God has punished me for the sin! Do you 
know. Jack, that luck has never been with me since that day. 
Often and often have 1 bethought me of it; and sartain as you sit 
there, no great luck has ever been with me, or my craft, since 1 
went off, leaving my wife ashore. What was made in one v’y’ge, 
was lost in the next. Up and down, up and down the whole time, 
for so many, many long years, that ‘gray hairs set in, and old age 
was beginning to get close aboard— and 1 as poor as ever. It has 
been rub and go with me ever since; and 1 have had as much as I 
could do to keep the brig in motion, as the only means that was 
left to make the two ends meet.” 

‘‘ And did not all this make you think of your poor wife— she 
whom you had so wronged?” 

” 1 thought of little else, until 1 heard of her death at Hew Or- 
andlhen 1 gave it up as useless. Could 1 have fallen in with 
Molly at ‘an3Mime a’ter the first six months of my desartion, she 
and i would have come together again, and everything would have 
been forgotten, i knowed her very nature, which was all forgive- 
ness to me at the bottom, though seemingly so spiteful and hard.” 


JACK TIER. 


300 

“ Yet you wanted to have this Rose Badd, who is only too young, 
and handsome, and good for you.” 

” I was tired ot being a widower, Jack; and Rose is wonderlul 
pretty. She has money, too, and might make the evening of my 
days comfortable. The brig was old, as you must know, and has 
long been off of all the insurance offices’ books; and she couldn’t 
hold together much longer. But for this sloop-of-war, 1 should 
have put her off on the Mexicans; and they would have lost her to 
our people in a month.” 

‘‘ And was it an honest thing to sell an old and worn-out craft to 
any one, Stephen Spike?” 

Spike had a conscience that had become hard as iron by means 
of trade. He who traffics much, most especially it his dealings be 
on so small a scale as to render constant investigation of the minor 
qualities of things* necessary, must be a very fortunate man, if he 
preserve his conscience in any better condition. When Jack made 
this allusion, therefore, the dying man — for death was much nearer 
to Spike than even he supposed, though he no longer hoped for his 
own recovery— when Jack made this allusion, then, the dying man 
was a good deal at a loss to comprehend it. He saw no particular 
harm in making the best bargain he could; nor was it easy for him 
to understand why he might not dispose of anything he possessed 
for the highest price that was to be had. Still he answered in an 
apologetic sort ot way. 

” The brig was old, 1 acknowledge,” he said, ‘‘ but she was 
strong, and might have run a long time. 1 only spoke of her capt- 
ure as a thing likely totakeplace soon, if the Mexicans got her; so 
that her qualities were of no great account, unless it might be her 
speed— and that you khow was excellent. Jack.” 

” And you regret that brig, Stepnen Spike, lying as you do on 
your death bed, more than anything else.” 

” Not as much as I do pretty Rose Budd, Jack; Rosy is so de- 
lightful to look at!” 

The muscles of Jack’s face twisted a little, and she looked deeply 
mortified; for, to own the truth, she hoped that the conversation 
had so far turned her delinquent husband’s thoughts to the past, 
as to have revived in him some of his former interest in herself. It 
is true, he still believed her dead; but this was a circumstance Jack 
overlooked — so hard is it to hear the praises of a rival, and be just. 
She felt the necessity of being more explicit, and determined at 
once to come to the point. 

“ Stephen Spike,” she said, steadily, drawing near to the bed- 
side, ‘‘ you should be told the truth, when you are heard thus ex- 
tolling the good looks of Rose Budd, with less than eight-and- 
twenty hours of life remaining. Mary Swash did not die, as you 
have supposed, three years a’ter you desarted her, but is living at 
this moment. Had you read the letter 1 gave you in the boat, just 
before you made me jump into the sea, that would have told you 
where she is to be found.” 

Spike stared at the speaker intently; and when her cracked voice 
ceased, his look was that of a man who was terrified as well as be- 
wildered. This did not arise still from any gloamings of the real 
state of the case, but from the soreness with which his conscience 


JACK TIER. 


301 

pricked him. when lieheardf that his mnch-wroiiged wife was alive. 
He fancied, with a vivid and rapid glance at tiie probabilities, all 
that a woman abandoned would be likely to endure in the course 
of so many long and suffering 3 'ears. 

“ Are you sure of what you say. Jack? You wouldn’t take ad^ 
vantage of my situation to tell me an untruth?” 

” As certain of it as of my own existence. I have seen her quite 
lately — talked with her of you—m short, she is now at Key West, 
knows your state, and has a wife's feelin’s to come to yoiir bed’ 
side.” 

Notwithstanding all this, and the many gleamings he had had of 
the facts during their late intercourse on board the brig, Spike did 
not guess at the truth, fie appeared astounded, and his terror 
seemed to increase. 

“ 1 have another thing to tell you,” continued Jack, pausing but 
a moment to collect her own thoughts. ” Jack Tier— the real Jack 
Tier— he who sailed with 3 ^ou of old, and whom you left ashore at 
the same time you desarted your wife, did die of the fever, as you 
was told, in eight-and-forty hours a'ter the brig went to sea.*' 

” Then who, in the name ot Heaven, are you? How came you 
to hail by another’s name as well as by another sex?” 

” What could a woman do, whose husband had desarted her in a 
strange land?^’ 

“ J hat is rghiarkable ! yoidve been married? I should not 
have thougl^t possible, and your husband desarted you, too. 
Well, such things do happen.” 

Jack now felt a severe pang. She could not but see that her un- 
gainly — we had almost said her unearthly appearance — prevented 
the captain from even yet suspecting the truth; and the meaning of 
his language was not easily to be mistaken. Thai any one should 
have married Jier, seemed to her husband as improbab’e as it was 
probable he would run away from her as soon as it was in his power 
after the ceremony. 

“ Stephen Spike,” resumed Jack, solemnly, ” i am Mary Swash 
— /am your wife!” 

Spike started in his bed; then he buried his face in the coverlet 
and he actually groaned. In bitterness ot spirit the woman turned 
away and wept. Her feelings had been blunted by misfortune and 
the collisions of a selfish world; but enough of former self remained 
to make this the hardest ot all the blows she had ever received. 
Her husband,' dying as he was, as he must and did know himself 
to be, shrunk from one ot her appearance, unsexed as she had be- 
come by habits, and changed by years and suffering 


CHAPTER XVII 

The trusting heart’s repose, the paradise 
Of home, with all its loves, doth fate allow 
The crown of glory unto woman’s brow. 

Mrs. Hemans. 

It has again become necessary to advance the time; and we shall 
take the occasion thus offered to make a few" explanations touching 
certain events which have been passed over without notice. 


JACK TIER. 


302 

The reason why Captain Mull did not chase the yawl of the brig 
in the “ Poughkeepsie ” herself, was the necessity of waiting for his 
own boats that were endeavoring to regain the sloop-of- war. It 
would not have done to abandon them, inasmuch as the men were 
so much exhausted by the pull to windward, that when they reached 
the vessel all were relieved from duty for the rest of the day. As 
soon, however, as the other boats were hoisted in, or run up, the 
ship filled away, stood out of the passage and ran down to join the 
cuitei’ of Wallace, which was endeavoring to keep its position, as 
much as possible, by making short tacks under close-reefed higgs. 

Spike had been received on board the sloop-of-war, sent into her 
sick bay, and put under the care of the surgeon and his assistants. 
From the first, these gentlemen pronounced the hurt mortal. Th^e 
wounded man was insensible most of the time, until the ship had 
beat up and gone into Key West, where he was transferred to the 
regular hospital, as has already been mentioned. 

The wreckers went out the moment the news of the calamity of 
the “ Swash ” reached their ears. Some went in quest of the doub- 
loons of the schooner, and others to pick up anything valuable that 
might be discovered in the Leighborhood of the straiided brig. It 
may be mentioned here, that not much was ever, obtained from the 
briaantine, with the exception of a few spars, the sails, and a little 
rigging; but, in the end, the schooner was raised, by means of the 
chain Spike had placed around her, the cal)ia w'as ransacked, and 
the doubloons w^ere recovered. As (here was no one to claim the 
money, it was quietly divided among the conscientious citizens pres- 
ent at its revisiting “ the glimpses of the moon,” making gold 
plenty. 

The doubloons in the yawl would have been lost but for the sagac- 
ity of Midford. He too well knew ttie character of Spike to be- 
lieve he would quitthebrig without taking the doubloons with him. 
Acquainted vvith the boat, heexamined the little locker in the stern- 
sheets, and found the two bags, one of which was probably the law- 
ful property of Captain Spike, while the other, in truth, belonged 
to the Mexican government. The last contained the most gold, but 
the first amounted to a sum that our young mate knew to be very 
considerable. Rose had made him acquainted with the sex of Jack 
Tier since their own marriage; and he at once saw that the claims 
of this uncouth wife, who was so soon to be a widow, to the gold 
in question, might prove to be as good in law, as they unquestion- 
ably were in morals. On representing the facts of the case to’ Cap- 
tain Mull and the legal functionaries at Key West, it was deter- 
mined to relinquish this money to the heirs of Spike, as, indeed, 
they must have done under process, there being no other claimant. 
These doubloons, however, did not amount to the full price of the 
flour and powder that composed the cargo of the ‘‘ Swash.” The 
cargo had been purchased with Iilexican funds; and all that Spike 
or his heirs could claim, was the high freight for which he had 
undertaken the delicate office of transporting those forbidden arti- 
cles, contraband of war, to the Dry Tortugas. 

Mill ford by this time was high in the' confidence and esteem of 
all on board the ” Poughkeepsie.” He had frankly explained his 
whole conneciion with Spike, notevea attempting to conceal the re- 


JACK TIER. 


303 

lucfancc he had fell to betra3ahe brig after he had fully ascertained 
the fact of his commander’s trenson. The manly gentlemeii with 
whom he w^as now brought in contact entered into Lis feelings, and 
admitted that it was an oflice no one could desire, to turn against 
the craft in which he sailed. It is true, they could not and w’ould 
not be traitors, but Mulford had stopped far short of this; and the 
distinction between such a character and that of an informer was 
wide enough to satisfy all I hcii’ scruples. 

Tnen Hose had the greatest success with the gentlemen of the 
“ Poughl^epsie.’^ Her youth, beauty, and modesty told largely in 
her favor, and the simple, womanly affection she unconsciously 
betrayed in behalt of Harry, touched the heart of every observer. 
When the intelligence of her aunt’s fate reached her, the sorrow 
she manifested was SO’ profound and natural, that every one sym 
nathized with her grief. Kor would she be satisfied unless Mulford 
would consent to go in search of the bodies. The latter knew the 
hooelessness of such an excursion, but he could not refuse to com 
ply. He was absent on tlnit melancholy duly, therefore, at the 
moment of the scene related in our last chapter, and did not return 
until after that .which we are now about to lay before the reader. 
Mrs. liudd, Hiddy, and all of those who perished after the yawl got 
clear of the reef, were drowned in deep water, and no more was 
ever seen of anyyif them; or, if wreckers did pass them, they did 
not stojD to bury the dead, it w'as different, however, with those, 
who were first sacrificed to Spike’s selfishness They were drowned 
on the reef, and Harry did actually recover the bodies of the Senor 
Montefalderon, and of Josh, the steward They had washed upon a 
rock that is bare at low water He took them both to the Dry Tor 
tugas, and had them interred along with the other dead at tliat 
place. Don Juan was placed side by side with his unfortunate 
countryman, the master of his equally unfortunate schooner. 

While Harry was absent and thus emploj^ed. Rose wept much 
and prayed more. She. would have felt herself almost alone in the 
world, but for the youth to whom she had l o recently, less than a 
week before, plighted her faith in wedlock. That new tie, it is true, 
was of sufficient importance to counteract many of the ordinary 
feelings of her situation; and she now turned to it as the one which 
absorbed most of the future duties of her life. Still she missed the 
kindness, the solicitude, even the weaknesses of her aunt; and the 
terrible m.anner in which Mrs. Budd had perished, made her shud- 
dei with horror whenever she thought of it. Poor 13iddy, too, came 
in for her share of the regrets. This faithful creature who had been 
in the relict’s service ever since Rose’s infancy’’, had become en- 
deared to her, in spite of her uncouth manners and confused ideas, 
by the warmth of her heart, and the singular truth of her feelings. 
Biddy, of a 1 her family, had come to America, leaving behind her 
not only brothers and sisters, but parents living. Each year did 
she remit to the last a moiety of her earnings, and many a half dol- 
lar that had come from Rose’s pretty little hand, had been convert- 
ed into gold, and forwarded on the same pious errand to the green 
island of her nat{vitJ^ Ireland, linhappy country! at this moment 
what are not the dire necessities of thy poor! Here, from the midst 
of abundance, in a land that God has blessed in its productions far 


304 


JACK TIER. 


beyond the limits of human wants, a land in which famine- was 
never known, do we at this moment hear thy groans, and listen to 
tales of suffering that to us seem almost incredible. In the midst 
of these chilling narratives, our eyes tall on an appeal to the En- 
glish nation, that appears in what it is the fashion of some lo term 
the first journal of Europe (!) in bdialf of thy suffering people, A 
worthy appeal to the charity ot Englan'l seldom tails; but it seems 
to us that one sentiment of this might have been altered, if not 
spared. Tlie English are asked to be j-orgetful of the past,” and 
to come forward to the relief of their suffering fellow-subjects. We 
should have written ” mindful of the past,” in its stead. • We say 
this in charity, as well as in truth. We come of English blood, and 
if we claim to share in all the ancient renown of that warlike and 
enlightened people, w e are equally bound to share in the reproaches 
that original misgovernment has inflicted on thee. In this latter 
sense, then, thou hast a right to our sympathies, and they are not 
withheld. 

As has been already said, we now advance the time eight-and- 
forty hours, and again transfer the scene to that room in the hospi- 
tal w.hich was occupied by f^pike. The approaches of death, during 
the interval just named, liad been slow but certain. The surgeons 
liad announced that the wounded man could not possibly survive 
the coming night; and he himself had been made sensible that his 
end was near. It is scarcely necessary to add that Stephen Spike, 
conscious of his vigor and strength, in command of his brig, and 
bent on the pursuits of w^orldly gains, or of personal gratification, 
wuis a very different person from him W’ho now lay stretched on his 
pallet in the hospital of Key West, a dying man. B}” the side of 
his bed still sat his strange nurse, less peculiar in appearance, how- 
ever, than when last seen by the reader. 

Bose Budd had been ministering to the ungainly externals of Jack 
Tier. She now wore a cap, thus concealing the short, gray bristles 
of hair, and lending to her countenance a little of that softness 
which is a requisite of female character. Some attention had also 
been paid to the rest of her attire; and Jack was, altogether, less 
repulsive in her exterior than when, unaided, she had attempted to 
resume the proper garb of her sex. Use and association, too, had 
contributed a little to revive her woman’s nature, if we may so ex- 
press it, and she had begun, in particular, to feel the sort of interest 
in her patient which we all come in time to entertain toward any 
objects of our especial care. We do not mean that Jack had abso- 
lutely ever ceased to love her husband; strange as it may seem, 
such had not literally been the case; on the contrary, her interest in 
him and in his welfare had never ceased, even while she saw his 
vices and detested his crimes; but all we wish to say here is, that 
she was getting, in addition to the long- enduring feelings of a wife, 
some of the interest ot a nurse. 

During the whole time which had elapsed between Jack’s reveal- 
ing her true character, and the moment of which we are now writ- 
ing, Spike had not once spoken to his wife. Often had she caught 
his eyes intently riveted on her, when he would turn them away, 
as she feared, in distaste; and once or twice he groaned deeply, more 
like a man who suffered mental than bodily pain Still the patient 


JACK TIER. 


305 

did not speak once in all the time mentioned. We should he repre- 
senting poor Jack as possessing more philosnphy, or less teeling, 
than the trn^h would warrmt, were we to say that she was not 
hurt at this conduct in her husband, On the contiary, sJie felt it 
deeply; and more than once it had so far subdued her pride, as to 
cause her bilterly to weep. This shedding of tears, however, as of 
service to Jack in one sense, for it had the effect of renewing old 
impressions, and in a certain way, of reviving the nature of her sex 
within her— a nature which had been sadly weakened by her past 
life. 

i3ut the hour had at length come when this long and painful si- 
lence was to be broken. Jack and Eose were alone with the patient, 
when the last^again spoke to his wife. 

“ Molly— poor Molly!” said the dying man, his voice continuing 
full and deep to the last, “ what a sjid time you must have had ot 
it after 1 did you that wrong!” 

“ It is hard upon a woman, Stephen, to turn her out, helpless, on 
a cold and selfish world,” answered Jack, simply, much too honest 
to affect a reserve ^e did not feel. 

” It was hal’d, / indeed; may God forgive me for it, as 1 hope ye 
do, Molly.” 

No answer was made to this appeal, and the invalid looked anx- 
iously at his wife. The last sat at her woik, which had now got 
to be less awk-'vard to her, with her eycc bent on her needb — her 
countenance rigid, and, so far as the eye could discern, her feelings 
unmoved. 

” Your husband speaks to you. Jack Tier, ’’said Eose, pointedly. . 

” May never have occasion to speak to you, Eose J3udd, 
in the same way,” was the solemn answer ” I do not flatter my- 
self that 1 ever was as comely as you, or that yonder poor dying 
wretch was a Hairy Mulford in his youth, but we were young and 
happy, and respected once, and loved each other, yet you see what 
it’s all come to!” 

Eose was silenced, though she had too much tenderness in behalf 
of her owm youthful and manly bridegroom to dread a fate similar 
to that which had overtaken poor Jack. Spike now seemed dis- 
posed to say something, and she went to the side ot his bed, fol- 
lowed by her companion, who kept a little in the background, as 
if unwilling to let the emotion she really felt be seen, and, perhaps 
conscious that, her ungainly appearance did not aid her in recover- 
ing the lost affections of her husband. 

” 1 have been a very wicked man, 1 fear,” said Spike, earnestly. 

” There are none without sin,” answered Rose. “ Place your re- 
liance on the meiliation ot the Son of God, and sins even far deeper 
tht^ yours may be pardoned.” 

The captain stared at the beautiful speaker, but self-indulgence, 
the incessant pursuit of worldly and selfish objects for forty years, 
and the habits of a life into which the thought of. God and the 
dread hereafter never entered, had incased his'spii’itual being in a 
sort of brazen armor, through which no ordinary blow of conscience 
could penetrate. Still he had fearful glimpses of recent events, and 
his soul, hanging as it was over the ab} ss of eternity, was troubled. 

What has become of your aunt,” half whispered Spike— “ my 


306 JACK TIER. 

old captain’s widow? She ought to he here; and Don Wan Monte- 
zuma — where is he?*' 

Rose turned aside to conceal her tears— but no one answered the 
questions of the dying man. Then a gleaming of childhood shot 
into the recollection of SpiKe, and, clasping his hands, he tried to 
pray. But, like others who hav^e lived without any communica- 
tion with their Creator through long lives of apathy to his existence 
and laws, thinkina: only of the present time, and daily, hourly sacri- 
ficing principles and duty to the narrow interests '^f the moment, 
he now found how hard it is to renew communications with a 
Being who has been so long neglected. The fault lay in himself, 
however, for a gracious ear was open, even over the death-bed of 
[Stephen Spike, could that rude spirit only bring itself to ask for 
mercy in earnestness and truth. As his companions saw his strug- 
gles, they left him tor a few minutes to his own thoughts. 

“ JMolly,” Spike at length uttered, in a faint tone, the voice of 
one conscious of being very near his end, “ 1 hope you will forgive 
me, Molly. I know you must have a hard, hard time of it.” 

‘‘ It ia^hard for a woman to unsex herself, Stephen; to throw off 
her very natur’, as it might be, and to turn man.” 

” It has changed you sadly— even your speech is altered. Once 
your voice was soft and womanish— more like that of Rose Budd’s 
than il is now.” 

“ 1 speak as them speak among whom I've been forced to live. 
The forecastle and steward’s pantry, Stephen Spike, are poor schools 
to send w'omen to I’arn language in.” 

‘‘ Try and forget it all, poor Molly! Say to me, so that 1 can 
hear you, ‘ 1 forget and forgive, Stephen.’ 1 am afraid God will 
not pardon my sins, which begin to seem dreadful to me, if my 
own wife refuse to forget and forgive, on my dying bed.” 

Jack was much mollified by this appeal. Her interest in her 
offendinn: husband had never been entirely extinguished. She had 
remembered him, and often with woman’s kindness, in all her wan- 
derings and sufferings, as the preceding parts of our narrative must 
show; and though resentment had been mingled with the grief and 
mortification she felt at finding how much he still submitted to 
Rose’s superior charms, in a breast as really generous and humane 
as that of Jack Tier’s, such a feeling was not likely to endure in the 
midst of a scene like that she was now called to witness. The 
muscles of her countenance twitched, the hard-looking, tanned face 
began to lose its sternness, and every way she appeared like one pro- 
foundly disturbed. 

“ Turn to him whose goodness and marcy may sarve you, 
Stephen,” she said, in a milder and more feminine tone than she 
had used now tor years, making her more like herself than either 
her husband or Rose had seen her since the commencement of the 
late voyage; ” my savin’ that 1 forget and forgive can not help a 
man on his death-bed.” 

” It will settle my mind, Molly, and leave me freer to turn my 
thoughts to God. ” 

Jack was much affected, more by the countenance and manner of 
the suffererj perhaps, than by his words. She drew nearer to the 


JACK TIER. 307 

side of her husband’s pallet, knelt, took his hands, and said sol- 
emnly— 

“ Stephen Spike, from the bottom of my heart, 1 do fordve yoir 
and 1 shall pray to God that he will pardon your sins as freely and 
more marcihilly than I now pardon all, and try to forget all that 
you have done to me.” 

Spike clasped his hands, and again he tried to pray; but the 
habits of a whole life are not to be thrown ofl; at will; and he who 
endeavors to regain, in his extremity, the moments that have been 
lost, will find, in bitter reality, that he has been heaping mountains 
on his own soul, by the mere practice of sin, which were never 
laid there by the original fall of his race. Jack, however, had dis- 
burdened her spirit of a load that had long oppressed it, and, bury- 
ing her face in the rug, she wept. 

” 1 wish, JVlolly,” said the dying man, several minutes later— “ I 
wish 1 had never seen the brig. Until 1 got that craft, no thought 
of wronging human being ever crossed my mind.” 

. “It was the Father of Lies that tempts all to do evil, Stephen 
and not the brig, which caused the sins.” ’ 

“ 1 wish 1 could live a year longer— one year; that is not 
much to ask for a man who is not yet sixty.” 

“It is hopeless, poor Stephen. The surgeons say you cannot 
live one day.” ^ 

Spike groaned— for the past, blended fearfully with the future 
gleamed on his conscience with a brightness that appalled him. And 
what is that future, wdiich is to make us happy or miserable through 
an endless vista of time? Is it not composed of an existence, in 
which conscience, released from the delusions and weaknesses of 
the body, sees alMn its true colors, appreciates all, and punishes 
all? Such an existence would make every man the keeper of the 
record of his own transgressions, even to the most minute exact- 
ness. It would of itself mete out perfect justice, since the sin 
would be seen amid its accompanying facts, every aggravating or 
extenuating circumstance. Each man wmuld be strictly punished 
according to his talents. As no one is without sin, it makes the 
necessity of an atonement indispensable, and, in its most rigid in- 
terpretation, it exhibits ihe truth of the scheme of salvation in the 
clearest colors. The soul, or conscience, that can aamit the neces- 
sary degree of faith in that atonement, and in admitting, feels its 
efficacy, throws the burden of its own transgressions away, and re- 
mains forever in the condition of its original existence, pure, and 
consequently happy. 

We do not presume to lay down a creed on this mighty and mys- 
terious matter, in which all have bo deep an interest, and concerning ' 
which so very small a portion of the human race think much, or 
think with any clearness when it does become the subject of their 
passing tnoughts at all. We too well know our own ignorance to 
venture on dogmas which it has probably been intended that the 
mind of man should not yet grapple with and comprehend. To re- 
turn to our subject. 

Stephen Spike was now made to feel the incubus-load, which per- 
severance in sin heaps on the breast of the reckless offender. What 


JACK TIEK. 


308 

was the most p:rievous of all, his power to shake off this dead weight 
was diminished in precisely the same proportion as the burden was 
increased, the moral force of every man lessening in a very just 
ratio to the magnitude of bis delinquencies. Bitterly did this deep 
offender struggle with his conscience, and little did his half-un- 
sexed wife know how to console or aid him. Jack had been super- 
ficially instructed in the dogmas of her faith, in childhood and 
youth, as most persons are instructed in what are termed Christian 
communities— had been made to learn the Catechism, the Lord’s 
Prayer, and the Creed— and had been left to set up for herself on 
this small capital, in the great concern of human existence, on her 
marriage and entrance on the active business of life. When the 
manner in which she had passed the last twenty years is remem- 
bered, no one can be surprised to learn that Jack was of little as- 
sistance to her husband in his extremity. Rose made an effort to 
administer hope and consolation, but the terrible nature of the 
struggle she witnessed, induced her to send for the chaplain of the 
“Poughkeepsie.” This divine prayed with the dying man; but 
even he, in the last moments of the sufferer, was little more than a 
passive but shocked witness of remorse, suspended over the abyss 
of eternity in hopeless dread. We shall not enter into the details of 
the revolting scene, but simply add that curses, blasphemy, tremu- 
lous cries for mercy, agonized entreaties to be advised, and sullen 
defiance were all strangely and feai fully blended. In the midst of 
one of these revolting paroxysms, Spike breathed his last. A few 
hours later, his body was interred in the sands of tlie shore. It may 
be well to say in this place, that the hurricane of 1846, which is 
known to have occurred only a few months later, swept off the frail 
covering, and that the body was washed away to leave its bones 
among the wrecks and relics of the Florida Reef. 

Mulforcl did not return from his fruitless expedition in quest of 
the remains of Mrs. Budd, until after the death and interment of 
Spike. As nothing remained to be done at Key West, he and Rose, 
accompanied by Jack Tier, took passage for Charleston in the first 
convenient vessel that offered. Two days before they sailed, the 
“ Poughkeepsie ” went out to cruise in the Gult, agreeably to her 
general orders. The evening previously Captain Mull, Wallace, 
and the chaplain passed with the bridegroom and bride, whenllie 
matter of the doubloons found in the boat was discussed. It was 
agreed that Jack Tier should have them; and into her hands the 
bag w^as now placed. On this occasion, to oblige the officers. Jack 
went into a narrative of all she had seen and suffered, from the mo- 
ment when abandoned by her late husband down to that when she 
found him again. It was a strange account, and one filled with 
surprising adventures. In most of the vessels in which she had 
served. Jack had acted in the steward’s department, though she had 
frequently done duty as a foremast hand. In strength and skill she 
admitted that she had often failed; but in courage, never. Having 
been given reason to think her husband wuis reduced to serving in 
a vessel of war, she had shipped on board a frigate bound to the 
Mediterranean, and had actually made a whole cruise as a w^ard- 
room bo}’’ on that station. While thus employed, she had met wdlh 
two of the gentlemen present— Captain Mull and Mr. Wallace. The 


JACK TIEK. 


300 

former was then first-lieutenant of the frigate, and the latter a past- 
midshipman; and in these capacities both had been well known to 
her. As the name she tiien bore was the same as that under which 
she now “ hailed,” these officers were soon made to recollect her, 
tliough Jack was no longer the light, trim-built lad he had then 
appeared to be. Neither of the gentlemen named had made the 
whole cruise in the ship, but each had been promoted and trans- 
ferred to another craft, after being Jack’s shipmate rather more 
than a year. This information greatly facilitated the affair of the 
doubloons. 

. From Charleston the travelers came north by railroaff. Harry 
made several stops by the way, in order to divert the thoughts of 
his beautiful young bride from dwelling too much on the fate of 
her aunt. He knew that home would revive all these recollections 
painfully, and wished to put oft the hour of their return, until lime 
lad a little weakened Rose’s regrets. For this reason he passed a whole 
week in "WashingtoQ, though it was a season of the year that ihe 
place is not in much request. Still, Washington is scarce a town, 
at any season. It is much the fashion to deride the American cap- 
ital, and to treat it as a place of very humble performance with 
very sounding pretensions. Certainly, Washington has very few of 
the peculiarities of a great European capital; but few as these are, 
they are more than belong to any other place in this country. We 
now allude to the distinctkie characteristics of a capital, and not to 
a mere concentration of houses and shops within a given space. In 
this last respect, Washington is much behind fifty other American 
towns, ev«n while it is the only place in the whole Republic which 
possesses specimens of architecture, on a scale approaching tlxat of 
the higher classes of the edifices of the old world. It is totally de- 
ficient in churches, and theaters, and markets; or those it does pos- 
sess are, in an architectural sense, not at all above the level of vil- 
lage or country-town pretensions, but one or two of its national edi- 
fices do approach the magnificence and grandeur of the old world. 
The new Treasury Buildings are unquestionably, on the score of 
size, embellishments, and finish, the American edifice that comes 
nearest to first- class architecture on the other side of the Atlantic. 
The Capitol comes next, though it can scarce be ranked, relatively, 
as high. As for the White House, it is every way sufficient for its 
purposes and the institutions; and now that its grounds are fin- 
ished. and the shrubbery and trees begin to tell, one sees about it 
something that is not unworthy of its high uses ami origin. Those 
grounds which- so long lay a reproach to the national taste and lib- 
erality, are now fast becoming beautiful, are already exc&edingly 
pretty, and give to a structure that is destined to become historical, 
having already associated with it the names of Jefferson, Madison, 
Jackson, and Quincy Adams, together with the oi poUoi of the later 
presidents, an entourage that is suitable to its past recollections and 
its present purposes. They are not qxiite on a level with the parks 
of Loudon, it is true, or even with the Tuileries. or Luxembourg, 
ortheBoboii, or theVdla Reale, or fifty more grounds and gar- 
dens, of a similar nature, that might be mentioned ; but seen in the 
spring and early summer, they adorn the building they surround, 
and lend to the whole neighborhood a character of high civiliza- 


310 JACK TTER.- 

tion, tliiii no other place in America can show, in precisely the same 
form or to the same extent. 

This much have we said on the subject of the White House and 
its precincts, because we took occasion, in a former work, to berate 
the narrow-miuded parsimony which left the grounds of the White 
House in a condition that was discreditable to the republic. How 
far our philippic may have hastened the improvements which have 
been made, is more than we shall pretend to say; but having made 
the former strictures, we are happy to have an occasion to say 
(though .nearly twenty years have intervened between the expres- 
sions of the two opinions) that they are no longer merited. 

And here we will add another word, and that on a subject that is 
not sufficiently pressed on the attention of a people who, by posi- 
tion, are unavoidably provincial. We invite those whose gorges 
rise at any stricture on anything American, and who fancy it is 
enough to belong to the great republic to be great in itself, to place 
themselves in front of the State Department, as it now stands, and 
to examine its dimensions, material, and form with critical eyes, 
then to look along the adjacent Treasury Buildings, to fancy them 
completed, by a junction with new edifices of a similar construc- 
tion, to contain the Department of State; next to fancy similar 
works completed lor the two opposite departments; after which, to 
compare the past and present with the future as thus finished, and 
remember how recent has been the partial improvement which even 
now exists. H this examination and comparison do not show% di- 
rectly to the sense of sight, how much there was and is to criticise, 
as put in contrast with other countries, we shall give ifp the indi- 
viduals in question, as too deeply dyed in the provincial wool ever 
to be whitened. The present Trinity Church, New York, certainly 
not more than a third-class European church, it as much, com- 
pared with its village-like predecessor, may supply a practical hom- 
ily ot the same degree of usefulness. There may be those arrong 
us, however, who fancy it patriotism to maintain that the old 
Treasury Buildings w'ere quite equal to the new; and of these in- 
tense Americans we cry their mercy! 

Rose felt keenly on reaching her late aunt’s very neat dwelling 
in Fourteenth Street, New York. But the manly tenderness otMul- 
foid was a great support to her, and a little time brought her to 
think of that weak-minded, but well-meaning and affectionate rel- 
ative, with gentle regret, rather than with grief. Among the con- 
nections of her young husband, she foi.ud several females of a class 
in life certainly "equal to her own, and somewhat superior to the 
latter in education and habits. As tor Harry, he very gladly passed 
the season with his beautiful bride, though a fine ship was laid 
down for him, by means of Rose’s fortune, now much increased by 
her aunt’s death, and he was absent in Europe when his son was 
born; an event (hat occurred only two months since. 

The “Swash,” and the shipment of gunpowder, were thought 
of no more in the good towm of Manhattan. This great emporium 
— we beg pardon, this great commercial emporium — has a trick of 
forgetting, condensing all interests into those of the present mo- 
ment, It is much addicted to believing tliat which never had an ex- 
istence, and of oyerlookiug that which is occurring directly under 


JACK TIER. 


311 

its nose. So marked is this tendency to forgetfulness, wo should 
not be surpiised to hear some of the Manhattanese pretend that our 
legend is nothing but a fiction, and deny the existence of the 
“ Molly,” Captain Spike, and even of Biddy Noon. But we know" 
them too well to mind what they say, and shall go on and finish 
our narrative in our own way, just as it there were no such raven - 
throated commentators at all. 

Jack Tier, still known by that name, lives in the family of Cap- 
tain Mulford. She is fast losing the tan on her face and hands, and 
every day is improving in appearance. She now habitually wears 
her proper attire, and is dropping gradually into the feelings and 
habits of her sex. She never can become what she once was, any 
more than the blackamoor can become w’hite, or the leopard change 
his spots; but she is no longer revolting. She has left off chewing 
and smoking, having found a refuge in snuff. Her hair is permit- 
ted to grow, and is already turned up with a comb, though con- 
stantly concealed beneath a cap. The heart of Jack, alone, seems 
unaltered. The strange, tiger-like affection that she bore for Spike, 
during twenty years of abandonment, has disappeared in regrets for 
his end. It is succeeded by a most sincere attachment for Rose, in 
W"hich the little boy, since his appearance on the scene, is becoming 
a large participator. This child Jack is beginning to love intense- 
ly; and the doubloons, well invested, placing her above the feeling 
of dependence, she is likely to end her life, once so errant and dis- 
turbed, in tranquillity and a home-like happiness. 


THE END. 


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272 The Little Savage, By Captain 

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273 Love and Mirage ; or, The Wait- 

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274 Alice, Grand Duchess of Hesse, 

Pi-incess of Great Britain and 
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275 The Tliree Brides. Charlotte M. 

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276 Under the Lilies and Roses. By 

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277 The Surgeon’s Daughters. Hy 

Mrs. Henry Wood. A IMan of 
His Word. By W. E. Norris. 10 

278 For Life and Love. By Alison. 10 

279 Little Goldie. Mi's. Sumner Hay- 


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280 Omnia Vanitas. A Tale of So- 

ciety. By Mrs. I’orrester 10 

281 The Squire’s Legacy. By Mary 

Cecil Hay 15 

282 Donal Grant. By George Mac- 

Donald 15 

283 Tlie Sin of a Lifetime. By the 

author of “ Dora Thorne ”... 10 

284 Doris. By “ The Duchess ” .. 10 


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285 The Gambler’s Wife 20 

286 Deldee ; or. The Iron Hand. By 

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287 At War With Herself. By the 

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288 From Gloom to Sunlight. By 

the author of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

289 John Bidl’s Neighbor in Her 

True liight. By a “ Brutal 
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290 Nora’s Love Test. By Mary Cecil 


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291 Love’s Warfare. By the author 

of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

292 A Golden Heart. Bj^ the author 

of “Dora Thorne” 10 

293 The Shadow of a Sin. By the 

author of “ Dora Thorne ”... 10 

294 Hilda. By the author of “ Dora 

Thorne” 10 

295 A Woman’s War. By the author 

of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

296 A Rose in Thorns. By the au- 

thor of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

297 Hilary’s Folly. By the author 

of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

298 Mitchelhurst Place. By Marga- 

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299 The Fatal Lilies, and A Bride 

from the Sea. By the author 
of “Dora Thorne ” 10 

300 A Gilded Sin, and A Bridge of 

Love. By the author of “ Dora 
Thorne ” 10 

301 Dark Days. Bj’’ Hugh Conway. 10 

302 The Biatchford Bequest. By 

Hugh Conway 10 

303 Ingledew House, and More Bit- 

ter tlian Death. By the author 
of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

304 In Cupid’s Net. By the author 

of “ Dora Thorne ” 10 

305 A Dead Heart, and Lady Gwen- 

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306 A Golden Dawn, and Love for a 

Day. By the author of “ Dora 
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307 Two Kisses, and Like No Other 

Love. By the author of “ Dora 
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308 Beyond Pardon 20 

309 The Pathfinder. By J. Feni- 

more Cooper 20 

310 The Prairie. By J. Fenimore 

Cooper 20 

311 Two Years Before the Mast. By 

R. H. Dana, Jr..., 20 

312 A Week in Killarney. By “The 

Duchess” 10 

313 The Lover’s Creed. By Mrs. 

Cashel Hoey 15 

314 Peril. By Jessie Fothergill. . . . 20 

315 The Mistletoe Bough, Edited 

by Miss M. E. Braddon 20 

310 Sworn to Silence ; or. Aline Rod- 
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McVeigh Miller 80 


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318 The Pioneers; or, The Sources 

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Fables. By R. E. Francillon. 10 

320 A Bit of Human Nature. By 

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321 The Prodigals: And Their In- 

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322 A Woman’s Love-Story 10 

823 A AVillful Maid 20 

321 In Luck at Last. By Walter 

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325 The Portent. Bj’’ George Blac- 

donald 10 

326 Phautastes. A Faerie Romance 

for Men and Women. By 
George Blacdouald 10 

327 Raymond’s Atonement. (From 

the German of E. Werner.) 

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328 Babiole, the Pretty Milliner. By 

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843 The Talk of the Town. By 


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316 Tumbledown Farm. By Alan 

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347 As Avon Flows. By Henry Scott 
Vince ..... 20 


848 From Post to Finish. A Racing 
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350 Diana of the Crosswaj’s. By 

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351 The House on the Moor. By 

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352 At Any Cost. By Edward Gar- 

rett 10 

353 The Black Dwarf, and A Leg- 

end of Montrose. • By Sir Wal- 
ter Scott 20 

354 The Lottery of Life. A Story 

of New ’i'ork Twenty Years 
Ago. B.y John Brougham ... 20 

355 That Terrible Man. By W. E. 

Norris. The Princess Dago- 
mar of Poland. By Heinrich 


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3.56 A Good Hater. By Frederick 
Boyle 20 

357 John. A Love Story. By Mrs. 

Oliphant 20 

358 Within the Clasp. By J. Ber- 

wick Harwood... 20 

359 The Water-Witch. By J. Feni- 


^ • 

360 Ropes of Sand. By R. E. Fran- 

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361 The Red Rover. A Tale of tl^e 

Sea. B.y J. Fenimore Cooper 20 

362 The Bride of Lammermoor. 

By Sir Walter Scott 20 

363 The Surgeon’s Daughter. By 

Sir Walter Scott 10 

364 Castle Dangerous. By Sir Wal- 

ter Scott 10 

365 George Christy; or. The Fort- 

unes of a Minstrel. By Tony 
Pastor 20 

366 The Mysterious Hmiter; or. 

The ]\ian of Death. By Capt. 

L. C. Carleton 20 

367 Tie and Trick. By Hawley Smart 20 

368 The Southern Star ; or. The Dia- 

mond Land. B3' Jules Verne 20 

369 Miss Brelherton. By Mrs. Hum- 

phry Ward 10 

370 Lucy Crofton. By Mrs. Oliphani \0 

371 Margaret Maitland. By Mrs. Oli- 

phant 20 

37'2 Phyllis’ Probation. B.y the au- 

tiior of “ His Wedded Wife ”. 10 
37'3 Wing-aud-Wiug. J. Fenimore 

Cooper 20 


374 The Dead Dlan’s Secret ; or. The 

Adventures of a Medical Stu- 
dent. B.y Dr. Jupiter Paeon.. 20 

375 A Ride to Khiva. B:^Capt. Fred 

Burnaby, of the Royal Horse 


Guards...- 20 

376 The Crime of Christmas-Da5% 

B.y the author of “ My Duc- 
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■ agdalen Hepburn : A Story 
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By Mrs. Oliphant 39 


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373 Homeward Bound; or, Tlie 

Cliase. J. Fenimore Cooper. . 20 

379 Home as Found. (Requel to 

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380 Wyandotte; or. Tlie Hutted 

Knoll. J. Fenimore Cooper. . 20 

381 The Red Cardinal. By Finances 

Elliot 10 

382 Three Sisters; or, Sketches of 

a Highly Original Familj. 

By Elsa D’Esterre-Keeling. .. 10 

383 Introduced to Society. By Ham- 

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384 On Horseback Through Asia 

Minor. Capt. Fred Burnaby. 20 

385 The Headsman; or, The Abbaye 

des Viguerons. By J. Feui- 


more Cooper 20 

380 Led Astray ; or, “La Petite Comt- 

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387 The Secret of the Cliffs. By 

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388 Addie’c Husband; or. Through 

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author of “ Love or Lands?” 10 
889 Ichabod. By Bertha Thomas... 10 

390 Mildred Trevanion. By “The 

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391 The Heart of Mid-Lothian. By 

Sir Walter Scott 20 

392 Peveril of the Peak. BySir Wal- 

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393 The Pirate. By Sir Walter Scott 20 

394 The Bravo. By J. Fenimore 

Cooper 20 

395 The Archipelago on Fire. By 

Jules Verne 10 

396 Robert Ord’s Atonement. By 

Rosa Nouchette Carey '. 20 

397 Lionel Lincoln ; or, The Leaguer 

of Boston. By J. Fenimore 
Cooper 20 

398 Matt: A Tale of a Caravan. 

By Robert Buchanan ;. 10 

399 Miss Brown. By Vernon Lee.. ,20 

400 The Wept of iVish-Ton-Wish. 

By J. Fenimore Cooper 20 

401 Waverley. By Sir Waltei’ Scott 20 

402 Lilliesleaf; or, Passages in the 

Life of Mrs, Margaret Mait- 
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403 An English Squire. C. R. Cble- 

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404 In Durance AHle, and Other 

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NO. PRJC«. 

405 My Friends and I, Edited by 

Julian Sturgis 10 

406 The Merchant’s Clerk. By Sam- 

uel Warren 10 

407 Tyliiey Hall. By Thomas Hood 20 

408 Le.ster’s Secret. By Mary Cecil 

Hay 20 

409 Roy's Wife By G. J. Whyte- 

Melville 20 

410 Old Lady Mary. By Mrs. Oli- 

phant 10 

411 A Bitter Atonement. By Char- 

lotte M. Biaeme, author of 
“Dora Thorne” 20 


412 SomeOneElse. B,v B. IM. Cjoker 20 

413 Afloat and Ashore. By J. Feni- 

moi e Cooper ! 20 

414 Miles Wallingford. (Sequel to 

“Afloat and Ashore.”) By J. 
Fenimore Cooper 20 

415 'the Ways of the Hour. By J. 

F(nimore Cooper 20 

416 Jack Tier; or. The Florida Reef. 

By J. Fenimore Cooper 20 

417 The Fair Maid of Perth ; or. St. 

Valentine’s Day. By Sir V al- 
ter Scott 20 

418 St. Ronan's Well. By Sir V al- 

ter Scott ! 20 

419 TheOhainhearer : or, 'J lie Little- 

page Mam 'scripts. By ,1. 
Fenimore Cooper 20 

420 Satanstoe; oi^ Tlie lattlepage 

Alamiscripts. By J. Fenimore 
Cooper 20 

421 The Redskins; or, Indian and 

Injio. Being the conclusion 
of 'J’he Littlepage Manu- 
scripts. J. Fenimore Cooper 20 

422 Precaution. J.Feni more Cooper 20 

423 The Sea-Lions; or, The Lost 

Sealers. J. Fenimore Cooper 20 

424 Mercedes of Castile; or. The 

Voyage to Cathay. By J. 
Fenimore Cooper 20 

425 The Oak Openings ; or. The Bee- 

Hunter. By J. Fenimore 
Cooper 20 

426 Venus's Doves. Bj* Ida Ash- 

worth Taylor 20 

427 The Remarkable History of Sir 

Thomas XJpmore, Bart,, M.P., 
formerly’ known as “Tommy 
XJpmore.” R. D. BlaCkmore. 20 

428 Z^ro: A Story of Monte Carlo. 

By Mrs. Campbell Praed 10 


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378 Homeward Bound; or. The Chase. 

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379 Home as Found. (Sequel to “Hotne- 

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380 Wyandotte; or. The Hutted Knoll. 

By J. Fenimore Cooper .. 20 

381 Tlie Red Cardinal. By Frances Elliot 10 

382 Tliree Sisters; or, Sketches of a 

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383 Introduced to Society. By Hamilton 

Aide 1C 

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385 The Headsman; or. Tlie Abbaye des 

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386 Led ALStrav ; or, ” La Petite Comtesse.” 

By Octave Feuillet 10 

387 The Secret of the Cliffs. By Charlotte 

French 20 

388 Addie’s Husband ; or. Through Clouds 

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389 Ichabod. By Bertha Thomas 10 

390 Mildred Trevanion. “ The Duchess ” 10 

391 The Heart of Mid-Lothian. By Sir 

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302 Peveril of the Peak. Sir Walter Scott 20 

393 The Pirate. Sir Walter Scott 20 

394 The Bravo. By J. Fenimore Cooper. 20 

395 The Archipelago on Fire. By Jules 

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399 Miss Brown. By Vernon Lee 20 

400 The Wept of Wish-Toi.-Wish. By J. 

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405 My Friends and I. Edited by Julian 

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